


Missing Pieces

by darkrose9314



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26727526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrose9314/pseuds/darkrose9314
Summary: Missing scenes between Nessian from ACOWAR/Pre-ACOFAS/ACOMAF/PRE-ACOWAR.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian, ne - Relationship
Comments: 7
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

"Eat or Bed?" Cassian asked his eyes scanning her in concern. 

Nesta's blue-grey eyes slid over to Cassian's meeting his gaze as exhaustion coursed through her threatening to pull her under. It had been a long and exhausting day that she could scarlessly keep her eyes open. No one really understood how much that damn cauldron took out of her. No one except him. Always him. 

"Bed." She answered hoping that her eyes portrayed her invitation for him to follow her. They needed to talk. Alone. Where there were no prying eyes and the only ears the conversation would be heard by was there own. She kept her tone as neutral as possible to dissuade Feyre from noticing as she sat up from the chair she had been sitting in, Cassian following her on the way out. 

The night air blew gently in her face as Nesta took just a moment to look the stars. During her days as a human, the stars never shined as brightly. Now with her keen high-fae senses the sky became near iridescent. Footsteps sounded behind her causing her to turn around and meet Cassian's gaze. Sometimes she swore if she wasn't careful she could get lost in it. Those beautiful hazel eyes that made her feel more at home than she thought she ever could. To think she had almost lost that. Lost him. It always seemed like she was losing people. She didn't want to lose him. 

"Can you walk me to my tent?" she asked seeming to take him aback. It was rare for her to ask him for anything. 

"Of course." Cassian answered following into step beside her matching her pace as they walked in silence. 

Usually silence was loud to her. Silence meant that something was wrong, but the silence between them as they walked towards her tent was peaceful. As if they didn't need words to express their feelings. Nesta couldn't remember the last time she had felt that with anyone. She couldn't remember ever feeling the way she felt with Cassian with anyone else. As if the universe itself had crafted them for each other. As if they were- 

No. She couldn't think about that. Couldn't think of that damn cauldron taking something she thought was so beautiful and real and distorting it. Making her question if what he felt for her was real or just from his biological need to reproduce. She wasn't stupid. Had read up on mating bonds in hopes of helping Elain with hers. It couldn't be that way with her and Cassian. Nesta had already had so many choices taken away from her. Had so much of her humanity stripped away piece by piece that she was barely holding onto it by a thread. She just wanted one thing to be her damned choice in this new world of hers. Wanted Cassian to want and chose her just as much as she wanted him. Because it wouldn't be fair to either of them if it was just the bond. Could scarlessly think about having the choice to be with her taken away from him as well. She could walk away if she wished to, but for him, the pain of losing her would be near unbearable. And he had suffered enough. The universe would not be so cruel. 

Pushing the thought from her mind, Nesta exhaled. Her mind was fixating on something she wasn't even sure was true or not. Besides if there was a mating bond, Cassian would have known by this point. Wouldn't he? Would have felt it and told her about it like Lucien had told Elain. That thought reassured her as they finally made it to her tent, Cassian turning towards her their bodies mere inches from each other. It surprised her how much she wanted him to close the distance. How much she wanted him to take her in his arms and-

"Something on your mind sweetheart?" Cassian asked pulling her from her thoughts.

"Isn't there always?" She smiled looking down so Cassian could not see. 

His fingers touched her chin lightly and lifted it to meet his stare. The touch evoking desire for him from deep within her. So close. They were so close. 

"Is there something wrong?" He asked stroking her cheek. 

A million thoughts swirled through her mind, so she focused on just one. 

"I saw you fall." She whispered, shock crossing his features. "During the battle. I-I saw you get injured. And-And I-I-" 

The words caught in her throat as she felt the tears starting to flow down her cheeks. She couldn't remember the last time she cried. Couldn't remember the last time she had allowed anyone see her do so. 

Before she was aware what was happening, Cassian took her hand leading her into her tent as he pulled her into his embrace her head resting against his shoulder. 

Tears fell soaking his leathers as he let her let it all out. Waiting potentially and rubbing his hand up and down her back in a comforting gesture. His scent flooded her senses calming her 

"Nesta-" He whispered 

she looked up, the space between them non existent. She didn't think. She just moved. 

As if Cassian felt the same way she did, his head dipped lower, his lips meeting hers as their tongues fought for dominance. 

She had been kissed before, but none of those kisses could compare to his. To the way it had made her feel when his lips met hers. To the way her body reacted as she pressed herself closer to him deepening the kiss. Her body set aflame while his hands moved freely down to her hips wanting her closer. As if he also couldn't get enough. 

They had fought this. Fought their attraction for so long that the desire between them burned hotter than any fire. white, hot desire flashed up within her so intense that she had almost not noticed that her and Cassian had now made it to her bed. Her back hitting the cold sheets as she felt her legs encircling Cassian's waist. feeling his own desire against her as she moaned into his mouth at the sheer warmth of his body against her own. 

His mouth left hers, breath heavy as they gazed at each other lost in their desire. She wondered why he had bothered to stop before he pressed his lips gently to her forehead lips lingering there as if taking his time. 

"Cassian-" She breathed struggling to find words as his lips moved to her cheek and behind her ear nibbling at it gently. 

"Ness." He responded breath heavy as if he were fighting an inner conflict of his own. 

Usually the nickname would strike annoyance within her, but with him this close, with the need for him so intense that it threatened to consume her, It was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. 

"Did you want me to stop?" he asked. "If it's too much-If you want us to stop then we'll stop. I-I wouldn't want to do anything to make you feel pressured or feel like you have to say yes just to-"

"Cassian." She interrupted. 

"Yes-" He started holding his breath in anticipation. 

"You talk too much." She answered pulling him back down to her their lips meeting once more in a kiss more intense that she knew that there would be no stopping them now. And she wouldn't want to. Her own desire for this male consuming her as she let herself feel everything that she had been suppressing for so long. 

His lips moved to her neck kissing at that damned weak spot he knew drove her crazy making her moan, a chuckle escaping his lips thrilling her down to her core as she felt herself tighten at the sound. 

Finding the pulse of her neck like he did the first time, his tongue lapped at it. Only this time she didn't jerk away thinking of how amazing his tongue would feel in other places. 

Needing something to do with her hands, Nesta's hand traveled down the contours of Cassian's body until she managed to get down to his impressive length. She guessed what they said about wingspans was true. 

Before Nesta was aware of what was happening, Cassian moved her hand placing it above her head staring down at her, their finger intertwined. Desire written all over his face. She wondered why Cassian had stopped her. 

"My wings." He said simply unfurling them. Moving her hand to his shoulder so she could make the choice whether or not she wanted to stroke them or not. 

From what she had read they were very sensitive. And an Illyrian was very protective of them. This was him lettings down his walls for her. Showing Nesta the same vulnerability that she had showed him. A sign of trust. 

Gathering every bit of courage she could, Nesta touched Cassian's wings as gently as possible while his lips went back to the same spot on her neck that he knew would be her undoing. His teeth grazing her skin gently to contain himself. 

Lifting her up, Cassian moved them further up the bed looking down at her hands moving to her hair. To the style she had always wore it up in. 

"May I?" He asked hands roaming one of the braids. "I've always wondered what you look like with your hair down." 

Gently removing his fingers, Nesta's hands went to her own hair unbounding her hair as it cascaded around her. Cassian's hands stretched out running his fingers through her hair and putting it behind her ears tracing the points of them. They had always been the things she had been most subconscious about. 

"You're so beautiful." Cassian whispered pulling her into his kiss more gentle than his earlier kisses had been. This kiss. She couldn't describe it. This was the type of kiss she had read about in her romance novels. The kind of kiss she thought she would never experience. The kind of kiss that proved to her that he was the one. The one she had been looking for her entire life. 

"Cassian." she breathed finally knowing exactly what she wanted. 

"Nesta." He answered. 

"Make love to me." she whispered knowing this was exactly what she wanted. That Cassian was exactly who she wanted to do this with. 

"Are you sure?" he asked more serious than she had ever seen him. 

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life." She answered as he closed the distance between them pressing his lips to hers laying her back down on the bed as her kisses matched his own. 

This was them. Without any armor. Without any mask. Laying themselves bare to the other and finally letting the other see them for who they truly were. She had always claimed she had loved more fiercely than others, but Cassian. Well his love matched her own. Igniting the twin instincts within her that she thought she had lost long ago. 

The white hot flame that sparked between them turned into the purest form of passion that Nesta had ever felt as Cassian's hands lifted her shirt from her body, the cold air hitting her breast as Nesta lifted his shirt exposing those beautiful tattoos of his and revealing every scar that he shielded from others. Including his most recent one. The one he had received protecting others. It was the thing she admired most about him. His selflessness. His love. She knew in that moment that she would do anything she could to make sure that he was safe. To protect him the way he had protected others. To protect him like he should be protected. 

Tracing the swirls of his tattoos, with her tongue, Cassian gasped slightly earning a smile from Nesta as he pulled her closer kissing her once more. 

Before Nesta could register what was happening the tent flap opened 

"Hey Nesta, have you seen-Oh Gods." Mor interrupted turning around 

At the same time,Cassian moved Nesta behind him shielding her body with his as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

"I am so sorry, I=I didn't know you were in here. Devlon was looking for you, something about a problem with the warriors. I couldn't find you in your tent and I saw that Nesta's fey light was still on so I figured I would ask her." Mor answered seeming flustered. 

"Tell him I'll be there in a moment." Cassian answered irritation filling his voice as Mor exited the tent as quickly as possible. 

Sighing, Cassian turned towards Nesta. Regret and indecision filling his gaze. She knew he would stay with her if he could. 

"I'm sorry." He replied for what seemed like a few uncomfortable moments his hand intertwining with her own as she focused on the warmth to reassure her. 

"I understand. It wasn't your fault that we were interrupted and you are the general first and foremost." she answered forcing a smile staring down at their hands. 

"Look at me Sweetheart." 

Nesta looked up as Cassian's free hand went to her face stroking her cheek. 

"No matter how disappointed I am that we were interrupted, a small part of me is glad we were."

Pain and disappointment filled her at his words before the hand she had been holding squeezed hers reassuringly. 

"I know what you're thinking Nesta, but please let me finish." he replied as her gaze held firm ready to snap her walls up if she needed them. 

""I'm glad that we were interrupted, because when I make love to you Nesta Archeron, I want to make sure everything is perfect. I want to take my time to fully worship you and your body without the threat of any interruptions, because it's what you deserve. And I will wait no matter how long it takes to ensure that our first time is one that we'll both never forget." he promised as she kissed him wanting nothing more than for him to stay. 

"Thank you." she whispered as he got off the bed hesitantly.

"Goodnight Nesta Archeron." Cassian replied simply giving her one last lingering kiss before leaving her tent as she laid down and feel asleep feeling more safe than she had in years.


	2. Drowning in the Ageless Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cauldron scene from Nesta's POV. This scene takes places after the sneak peek we got of ACOSF. Trigger warning for: Sexual Assault, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Descriptions of Violence, Self-deprecating thoughts and Abuse.

Invisible hands dragged her further down into the darkness refusing to let go as she fought back as much as she could manage. 

Fight. A voice in the back of her mind had whispered. Guiding her, protecting her from the torture that was about to come. 

Somewhere in the ageless dark, a door opened as the invisible hands flung her into it and Nesta hit hard linoleum floor. The floors that her mother preferred. The floors of a home that had been long since forgotten. 

A small child raced past Nesta, her dress ruined by rips tearing at the seams as mud caked onto it and the tiles, her hair unbound and in a state of disarray. As if she had finally felt free. Nesta’s mother would have had a heart attack if she were alive to see it.  
“Nesta!” A voice shouted making Nesta jump. That voice so familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. A voice she had heard before, but not for a while.  
“Mother,” she whispered, heart aching to see the mother that she had lost so long ago.  
A memory. She realized. The cauldron was showing her one of her memories. One she had long since forgot about. Back when things were simpler. Back before her world turned upside down.  
A woman crossed Nesta’s past frightening her at how quick her pace was. Elegant yet swift. A woman on a mission. A woman who looked exactly like her.  
It had been a while since Nesta had seen her mother, so she took her in as much as she could. Before the memory dissolved. Before she lost her mother for good. Before she could never gaze at her mother’s face again.  
Her mother’s hair was up in her usual braids, the same one that Nesta had learned to feel closer to her. To have a piece of her that she could always carry with her. She had already lost everything else when the creditors had ransacked their house taking everything, they could with them. Including the only thing she had ever received from her mom. The only thing she had left of her. She only had her memories now and even those were slowly starting to fade away.  
Her slim figure, one Nesta had inherited followed her younger self as Nesta followed them moving as silently as a ghost. Looking on between the two as her mother crotched down to where she held Nesta’s younger self gripping tightly. Fury pinching her mother’s face. She always seemed so angry when their father wasn’t around.  
“Nesta Marie Archeron, what in the hell were you thinking? You are filthy. Young ladies are not wild beast who roll around in the mud when they please! They are always presentable! Always maintaining a sense of modesty! Do you think you will ever marry someone one day looking as you do now?”  
“Shouldn’t a man love me for who I am? Want to marry me for more than just the way I look?”  
“Oh, Nesta, My sweet child, my darling. Your father must be not keeping an eye on you enough. I told him to keep those books somewhere safe, so they don’t fill your head with useless lies. If you believe that a man will marry you for love instead of what you an offer him than you are nothing but daft. Our society doesn’t have room for such delusional ideas of grandeur”  
The words struck a chord with Nesta. She looked upon the child’s face as tears welled in her eyes threatening to spill. Her mother gave her a look of disgust wiping them away. As she turned cold eyes to her.  
“Ladies do not cry. Ladies do not show their emotions. We keep them in check, and we wear a mask so the world can not see us. Never show them your weakness. Your emotions are not your strength. Now come along. We must draw you a bath and make you presentable once more. God knows I wouldn’t want you to give your sisters any ideas.” Her mother said taking her by the arms and dragging her to the bathroom leaving Nesta down on the tile floor dumbfounded.  
Light blinded Nesta as she picked herself from the ground moving towards it. Why had the cauldron chosen to show her this specific memory? One thing she knew for sure. It would not break her.  
‘Your emotions are not weakness’ a voice proclaimed in the back of her mind propelling her towards the door next to her tugging her forward as she made her way to whatever the cauldron had in store for her next.

Coughing filled the room as Nesta gazed upon herself once more. This time instead of being the child who was the age of eight, Nesta gazed upon her eleven-year-old self-holding both her sisters tight as she gazed upon her father and her ailing mother. No. She couldn’t see this. Once had been enough.  
“Feyre darling. Come.” Her mother told her youngest sibling as Feyre slipped out of Nesta’s arms walking towards her mother. This was it. The last day she had seen their mother alive. She couldn’t bear to watch this. The day hat changed everything.  
‘You can do this.’ A voice encouraged lending her strength. She had no clue where it came from, but she was glad that it was here. A small comfort in her own personal hell.  
Her younger self trained eyes on Feyre who was now clasping her mother’s hand. A whispered conversation between both as Nesta looked on. She knew what Feyre had promised. Knew how hard she had tried to keep it and she had. She was still trying to keep that promise. Even though Nesta wanted nothing more than for Feyre to be released from that promise. Had tried so hard to get Feyre to see that she didn’t need to hold herself to it anymore. Why hadn’t her sister seen that? Would she always want to keep it?  
Nodding her understand, Feyre let go of her mother’s hand going back towards Elain whispering for her to go to their mother next as her and Nesta stared at each other. Nesta knew that stare well. The moment where the downfall of their relationship had started. The moment that their mother had trusted Feyre to take care of their family more than her. Why had she done it? What had Nesat ever done to make her mother doubt her?  
A smile crossed Elain’s face as her mother held her tight. That was the last time Nesta had ever seen her mother smile. Then again Elain had always been her mother’s happiness and their father’s. It was hard for Elain not to make anyone happy. It was her specialty. It was the reason Nesta loved her. Why she had let her in.  
“Feyre, please take Elain and go back to your rooms. I have to have a moment alone with your sister.” Her mother demanded as Feyre nodded slipping her hand into Elain’s and leaving the room as she looked upon her husband to give them privacy.  
Nodding his understanding, Nesta gazed upon her mother taking a seat next to her younger self before her mother gestured towards her. Her younger self went towards her mother sitting beside her as her mother fixed a few fly away from Nesta’s braid.  
“There. Now you’re perfect again.”  
“Mom-“Nesta began as her mother shushed her.  
“We don’t have much time together and I need you to listen to me.”  
Nodding her understanding, Nesta let her mother continue.  
“I need you to do something for me. I need you to make sure that your sisters keep their promises.”  
Confusion crossed her face, but she let her mother go on.  
“I need you to remember what I taught you. To remember that you’re a lady first and foremost. Always remember to keep on your mask and to never show them any sign of weakness. You may not know what I mean now, but when you’re older, you’ll understand.”  
Before Nesta could ask any further questions, her mother started coughing. At first it had started like any of her other coughs, but then her mother grabbed her hanker chief. Her coughs getting louder and more aggressive as a splash of red appeared on it. Blood. So much blood.  
Nesta’s younger self shot up. Her eyes growing wide as she did the only thing she knew to do.  
“Daddy!” Nesta cried out tears streaming her face. No. This couldn’t be happening.  
Her mother clasped a hand to her mouth as her mother started to vomit blood from her mouth, It staining the white sheets, turning them red.  
Terror filled her younger self as she felt her throat close, her breath coming in short gasp as she backed herself into a nearby wall, her ears ringing as the world became distorted around her. She couldn’t breathe. Why could she breathe?  
She hadn’t noticed her father bargaining into the room. Her mother’s limp body in his arms. Shaking her to wake her up, but he never would. No one would.  
Blackness tugged at the edges of her vision as Nesta gazed into her mother’s blue-grey eyes. Now lifeless. Dead.  
Nesta came back to herself. Her own heart racing rapidly. Out. She had to get out of here. But how? How could she get passed this?  
Masks. She needed her mask. She wouldn’t let this break her. She had lived through this before. Knew she could survive it. As if it were some call to her blood.  
Wiping away her tears, she walked towards the door looking at her younger self one last time. Her gaze filled with panic, anger, and all the emotions in between. It shocked her how much she had never changed. Always angry. Always burning.  
A tug pulled at her as Nesta’s hand went to her heart. Where was this constant tug coming from?  
Shaking that thought away, Nesta stepped through the door to one of her worst nightmares.  
It seemed like this cauldron was taking her through her own personal nightmare. How much more of this did she have to take? She knew this cauldron was trying to break her. But what it didn’t know was that she was stronger than it originally thought. She had a fire underneath her skin and she was ready to unleash it no matter how long this shitty bathtub kept her in there.  
‘Fight’ the voice said from within her and she knew that’s what she would do. She would keep fighting.  
The scene before her was of that God damn cottage that her and her family were forced to move into. She remembered this day more than any other. The day where her anger became too much. The day where she had started to resent everything her and her family stood for. The day she started hating herself. Though she would never admit that out loud.  
Hunger twisted her stomach, the pain becoming ear unbearable as she curled up in a fetal position on the ground. Elain sitting beside her as she looked down upon her sister whose lips were chapped so bad that they were nearly bleeding. Eyes turning towards her. Pleading. She wanted to get up. She wanted to fight. She had no clue where Feyre had gone off too. Her days were now starting to blend together. The rage and pride blinding her.  
Turning her eyes to her father, she narrowed her gaze. Why was he letting this happen? Why was he doing this to them? Didn’t he love them enough to realize they were worth fighting for? She didn’t know why she still held out hope for them. Still held out hope for her father to do something for them. Hope really did make you blind.  
Nesta wasn’t stupid. She knew she was dying. Knew that she wouldn’t last much longer without food. Taking a shaking breath, Nesta pulled herself up, gazing at him with every bit of hatred that she could as he turned his brown eyes on her.  
“Nesta…” he whispered as she shook her head. Nothing he could say would make this situation better. But at that moment she saw something in his eyes. Shame. Regret. He saw them. He finally saw what he was doing. Was he finally starting to realize their circumstances and how much he had been failing all of them? She saw it. Hope. And it was beautiful.  
Until the door flew open and Nesta’s eyes widened. Feyre?  
Feyre’s body was shaking, her hands covered with blood as she held a rabbit in one hand. Blood. Red. Soaked sheets. Her mother’s lifeless face. She tried to shake away the memory. To throw up her mental walls as the determination that had been in her father’s gaze faded. Switching to one of relief. Relief because once again, he was let off the hook. Failed. He failed. She failed. She hated that she felt this way. Hated that she felt like a failure once more. She looked at Feyre. At their salvation and that fire returned in her once more. That anger. Because it shouldn’t have been Feyre that saved them. It should have been him. It made her feel so violently sick. The shame. The regret. Emotions. So many emotions. Put on your mask. Her mother always said. Build up your walls. And from this moment on. That’s precisely what she did.  
Without warning, the vision shifted to another occurrence that she would never forget. The night that her baby sister had been taken. The night that Tomas had No. She could survive a lot, but it had been a while since she had revisited this night in her memories. A nightmare that she had tucked away. She hadn’t thought about that night ever since her and Cassian-No. She couldn’t think about him. Not when she was caught in this night. This time she wasn’t gazing at another version of herself. This time she was herself. Caught in her own memory so she couldn’t alter it. No matter how hard she tried.  
She clutched Elain tightly in her arms, her crying had seized as Nesta stared at the broken door in shock. Why had she stopped crying? Feyre. She had to go after Feyre. But they couldn’t go after her alone. They needed help.  
Standing up, Elain stared at Nesta in confusion wondering what the hell was going on as her father looked at her, his eyebrows raised.  
“Nesta? What are you doing?” He asked as she turned cold eyes on him. He couldn’t be serious.  
“What the hell are you talking about?! Feyre just got taken by God knows what and you’re just sitting there and asking what the hell I’m doing? You can’t be serious!”  
His face twisted in confusion as she rolled her eyes. Of course, he was in a state of denial. It’s not like this was anything new to him.  
“What are you talking about Nesta? Feyre didn’t get taken. She went to go visit Aunt Ripleigh.” Elain stated. Now it was Nesta’s turn to stare in confusion. What the hell was she going on about?  
“What are you going on about Elain?” Nesta asked. What the hell had that beast done to her sister?  
“Aunt Ripleigh., mother’s sister. She only had room for one of us and Freya has always been her favorite.” Elain smiled as Nesta’s eyebrows stitched together.  
“Elain, we don’t have an Aunt Ripleigh. We don’t have a family who gives half a shit about us enough to take one of us in.”  
“Nesta, I know you’ve always been jealous of Feyre, but fabricating a story that our own Aunt doesn’t even exist to make yourself feel better seems kind of petty don’t you think?”  
Heat flushed Nesta’s cheeks as embarrassment crept through. Pushing those feelings of insecruities away, Nesta looked around noticing the door and pointing to it.  
“How do you explain the door then?” Nesta asked as Elain’s gaze wondered to the door that was now off it’s hinges. Perhaps now she would believe her.  
Terror passed Elain’s face before the smile rested on her face once more. What the hell?  
“A gust of wind. We’ll have to find a way to fix it in the morning.” Elain offered as Nesta searched her face. She didn’t have time for this. Feyre was in trouble.  
Glamor. A voice whispered in the back of her head. Of course, Elain wouldn’t believe her. She had been glamoured, but if the beast had placed a glamour on all of them then why hadn’t it worked on her as well. Why was the only one who could remember?  
“Perhaps Tomas could take a look at it in the morning?” Her father suggested as a thought crossed Nesta’s mind.  
Tomas. Of course. He would believe her. And if she was going after Feyre, she knew he would go with her. Not for her naturally, but Tomas always enjoyed the thought of hunting the fae. Making them as powerless as they had made them.  
“I’ll ask him to take a look at it tonight. We can’t afford to get sick and that draft will cause us to catch a cold.”  
“But Nesta- “Her father started before she put a hand up to silence him.  
“Feyre left me in charge while she’s away and I say that I’m going to fetch Tomas. Surely you could look after one of your daughters while I’m away.”  
“Of course. I’m not incapable.” Her father answered narrowing his eyes slightly causing her to snort. But she didn’t have time to have this conversation with him.  
“I’ll be back shortly. Try not to wait up.” She stated giving Elain a hug just in case hoping that one day she would understand. “I love you.”  
“I love you too.” Elain whispered as Nesta grabbed her coat and made her way to go see Tomas. 

A sharp tug flung Nesta backwards propelling her towards the ground as she landed in the dirt, sharp rocks cutting into her hands causing her to wince. Silently groaning, she cursed this death trap making her usual fury return to her.  
She gazed at her past self-feeling as if her tongue were made of sandpaper. She wished that she could stop her past self. Spare her the unimaginable pain that was about to come. If she had known what was about to occur, she would have never gone to Tomas’s that night. Would have told herself to think more rationally. Told herself that no matter how much she thought he cared; Tomas would never be the guy she expected him to be.  
She would have told herself that she wasn’t imagining things when she caught his gaze wandering towards Elain, Feyre, or even Clare. Had convinced herself that he had been telling her the truth when he assured her that he only had eyes for her. Had even managed to place the blame on herself thanks to her insecurities that she kept well hidden from others. Of course, he was attracted to her, Tomas wouldn’t act so smitten if he weren’t. She had made herself so delusional with those thoughts that she even ignored the most obvious of signs. The lipstick smudged on Tomas’s shirt collar. The one she knew Clare preferred to wear. He wouldn’t do that to her. He loved her too much. Didn’t he?  
When she had questioned him about it, Tomas had grown livid. Rage and hurt filled those green eyes of his causing her to rethink ever accusing him of something so heinous. Even his face had displayed that disgust for her.  
Of course, back then she had blamed herself for overreacting. Had thought that the slap that had stung her cheek was just him in a rare fit of rage. This wasn’t him. He was never this cruel. At least not with her. He had apologized immediately afterwards. Had told her that he would never strike her again. He had always said that when he had hurt her ever since then. Even going as far as to leave bruises that she had to cover the next day. It had enraged her that she was so naïve. Had tricked herself into thinking that he still loved her despite this. Because she had told herself that this was the only relationship that she had deserved. Who else would put up with someone like her?  
Knocking rapidly on the door, Nesta prayed to God that he would answer instead of his father, brother, or mother. Thankfully, she had got her wish as Tomas stuck his head out looking at her with a groggy expression. She had obviously woken him up, but she was desperate and not sure who else she could turn to.  
“Nesta. Do you have any idea what time it is?” He asked irritation filling his features.  
She hadn’t checked the time before she had come here, but she had also left in a panic. He was never good at reading her emotions, but that was the least of her worries.  
Looking over his shoulder, Nesta bit her lip contemplating what the best way to approach this was. She had to talk to him alone and not on the threshold where his family could overhear them. The less people who knew what she was doing the better. God knows what it would look like to others if they had overheard that she wanted to go to Prythin.  
“Can we talk in private?” She asked.  
A choice. She would give him the choice whether he wanted to escort her across the wall. And if he said no than she would go alone. She wasn’t sure exactly how she would manage that, but all she really needed was someone who knew the way there. Maybe Tomas would even know someone. He was the more social of the two. If he didn’t want to go himself perhaps, he could point her in the direction of someone who could.  
“I don’t think that’s such a- “He started.  
“Please.” She pleaded verging on tears. She didn’t know the path to those woods, to the wall, but Tomas did.  
Sighing, Tomas stepped to the side gesturing her in. She shook her head. Too many ears.  
“Ca-Can we talk elsewhere? I don’t want to wake your family.” She continued when he gave her an incredulous look.  
His gaze softened slightly, the agitation slowly fading from his features as he stepped outside shutting the door silently behind him.  
“Come. We’ll have more privacy in the barn.” He answered slipping his hand in hers leading her towards the other end of his family’s property. It wasn’t much, but it was still better than most conditions here.  
Opening the doors to let them in, Nesta strode towards a bale of hay settling herself on it as Tomas followed suit. Nesta gazed upon his face searching for the right words that she hoped would help him understand.  
“I need your help.” She started.  
“I figured as much when you showed up here in the middle of the night. What exactly was so God damn important that you couldn’t wait until morning?”  
Wincing slightly at the harshness of his voice, Nesta continued.  
“Feyre is in trouble.”  
“And you care why? Feyre always puts herself in danger. Why is now any different?”  
Feeling as if she had been punched in the gut, Nesta chewed on her bottom lip tasting blood as she dug her nails into the palms of her hands. She knew that she could be an awful sister at times. She didn’t need him to remind her of that,  
“It’s different this time Tomas. She’s been taken.” She spat out frustrated.  
“I thought her being gone would make you happier. Now you don’t have to worry about her showing you up. Now you don’t have to worry about feeling like you’re a useless bitch who’s letting her family down. “  
“Listen I know I’ve let Feyre and my family down, but I’m trying to make things right. That’s why I’m here.”  
“And what exactly is your plan here?”  
“I’m going after her. I’m getting her back.” Nesta gritted out rising to her feet as Tomas shoved her back down, forcing her to sit.  
“What precisely is this plan of yours?”  
“I have to go after her. I owe her that much. She risked her life for us for years. It’s time that I give some of that back. I’m just ashamed that it took me this long to realize that.”  
“Where exactly is Feyre that has you so worried?”  
“A fae took her. He said some bullshit about a contract between the fae and humans. Feyre killed one of their own and the beast said she had to pay the price for it. The only other option was for her to be killed. She chose to go with him.” Nesta explained struggling to get the words out. She was pissed that she had been so paralyzed with fear to do something. That she had trusted Feyre to take care of herself. She was truly awful.  
“Why bother going after her then?”  
She stared at him incredulously. He couldn’t seriously be suggesting leaving Feyre in a land where the fae could torture, kill, and hunt her nearly for sport. Feyre may not have been her favorite at times, but it didn’t mean she wanted her dead. It didn’t mean that she didn’t care for her deep down. And if she stayed in that awful place. That’s exactly what would happen to her. Dangerous. This whole world was dangerous, and she wouldn’t let her baby sister get hurt because of Nesta’s owe negligence. She wouldn’t do that. She would not become her mother or her father. It was time for her to be her own person. No matter how long it took her to change.  
“Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I’m tired of being such a coward. Feyre would do the same thing if it were me.” She answered standing up once more. She was obviously wasting her time talking to someone who wouldn’t listen.  
“If you already know what you’re going to do than why did you bother coming here?” He asked. She was finally starting to see him as the person he had been all along.  
“Where is the wall?” She asked straightforward. It was obvious to her that she would have to do this alone or find someone else to take her. She didn’t even know why she thought he would bother. Why she thought he would care.  
“How should I know? I don’t have a death wish and I’ve never been that close to the wall to begin with. However, I refuse to let you go on some useless suicide mission to save a sister that’s probably better off where she’s at.”  
“No. She’s not.” Nesta gritted out, fingers digging further into her palm. “I shouldn’t have come here. It was only a waste of my time. I should be out looking for her and not talking to someone who could give less of a shit about me or my family.”  
Nesta readied herself to leave, shoving down her fear of the unknown, when suddenly Tomas roughly grabbed her arm his nails digging in deep leaving marks. His hand gripping hard enough to bruise.  
“Let me go.” She demanded wincing at the pain that his hand was causing.  
“You’re not going anywhere.” He warned, voice dangerously low. “Everyone would consider me less of a man if I let you go. And I’ve worked too hard on my reputation in this society to ever let you ruin something so precious with your recklessness. For that gods damned bleeding heart of yours that makes you weaker than any women I’ve ever known. Do you understand me? Did I make myself perfectly clear? I won’t let you go because this suicide mission of yours is a hopeless cause. You’re so fragile. So defenseless. The perfect women to everyone who’s not afraid to look too close.”  
“Feyre isn’t a hopeless cause and there is no way in hell that I’m ever going to marry you. Feyre was right. It just took me forever to realize that I deserve so much better than you.” Nesta spat. The venom of her words feeling like the best release. She couldn’t hurt him like he had hurt her, but boy could she make it sting.  
“What the hell did you just say?” He growled out. Dangerously low. His grip tightening more making the pain in her arm near unbearable. But she couldn’t back down. She had to do this. She had to stop being so afraid of him.  
“I said that I’m not marrying you. We. Are. Over. We.Are.Done.” She stated drawing out the words for emphasis.  
“Why? Because I’m not about to feed into your grand delusion of being your sister’s savior? Because I don’t believe you’re willing to put yourself at risk to save a sister who you despise. No. This isn’t about Feyre. This is for an entirely different reason. One I can’t believe it took me so long to realize.”  
“And what reason would that be?” She challenged. She would not back down. She would not show him any sign of weakness.  
“You’re in love.” He hissed putting as much disgust in his tone as he possibly could.  
“What are you going on about?” Nesta asked trying her best to pry herself out of his grasp, but he kept her there.  
“Did you seriously think that you could come to my house and spout some bullshit about Feyre being in trouble. When I know you could care less about whether she lives or dies. No. You don’t want to go to that land for her. You want to go for someone else. Tell me Nesta. Have you been sharing some fae bastards’ bed? Has he sullied you with his hands? His tongue? Made you cry out his name as he buries himself deep into the only useful parts of you? How good he must make you feel to abandon your morals. How good he must feel for you to let mommy dearest down. To bring shame to your family and your father. You act so much better than everyone else and yet you’re nothing more than a whore. A slut who will open her legs for anyone who shows her the least bit affection. Tell me Ness, what is his name? The man who makes you feel such things that you’d be willing to throw everything away.” He taunted pulling her closer to him, so they were face to face.  
“You’re hurting me.” She sobbed. She had never seen him this angry before.  
“Stop avoiding the question.” He snapped gripping her upper arms as hard as he possibly could causing her to let out a strangled cry. Tomas smirked satisfied at himself for getting the reaction out of her that he wanted.  
“Because I’ve done nothing wrong! I’m not sleeping with anyone! And I’m telling you the truth when I tell you that Feyre’s life is in danger!” She screamed at him hoping that it would make him let her go. Make him see reason when her calm demeanor had not.  
Tomas shook his head in disbelief as his nails dug in deeper applying as much pressure as he could. Her lower arm starting to form the bruises wear he had gripped her before. She hissed out in pain as one of those hands moved from her arm to her jaw squeezing hard.  
“I don’t believe you.”  
“I have given you no reason to doubt me.”  
“We both know that’s bullshit. Why else have your kisses grown cold?”  
“You can’t be serious.” She snapped applaud at his accusation when he had been the one whose hands had been wandering elsewhere.  
Her stomach flipped, disgust at the person she was staring at radiating through her. This man. This monster. Her heart pounded so fast that it was making it hard for her to breath. Danger. Her mind snapped at her. Get away from the danger.  
“I’m dead serious.” He accused, fury radiating from his eyes as he grabbed for her throat and shoved her down on the bale of hay pressing the full weight of his body on top of her, so she couldn’t escape.  
Her defensives kicked in struggling to get out of his grasp as he chuckled.  
“You’re nothing but a fucking tease Nesta Archeron. You are worthless. You are nothing. You are an unlovable monster who deserves nothing good from this world. And to think I used to feel sorry for you. “He mocked his hands traveling down to her breast as bile rose in her throat. She tried to get him off. Cried for him to stop and to let her go. But he didn’t.  
Her fingers clawed in him as she twisted. Pain shooting throughout her body as her senses kicked into full drive. His hands tore her dress, exposing her to him as she sucked in a deep breath and screamed loud enough to wake whoever could hear it.  
His hand slammed down on her mouth so hard she tasted blood.  
“You stupid whore. I’m only taking what I’m owed. “He started moving towards her underwear as she bit down hard on his hand sinking her teeth deep enough to where he gasped out in pain.  
Striking out with her legs, she struck him in the area she knew would hurt shoving him off her when she had found her mark as she leapt up him grasping her ankle as she fell hard to the ground. He attempted to crawl on top of her, but she struck out with her fist landing it to the side of his face as she made a run for it.  
She had made it almost outside when strong hands yanked her by the hair pulling so hard that her scalp burned in protest. Moving her arms to where he had her in his grasp, she didn’t hesitate as she put her momentum into throwing him off of her so hard that his head smacked into the barn door rendering him unconscious as Nesta did the only thing she could think of to do. She went back home. 

Vomit filled Nesta’s throat as the memory intruded her thoughts. She watched as her past self-made her way home. Feeling everything and nothing at once as she made her way through the door grateful that both her father and Elain were asleep as she made her way to the small bathroom and emptied her stomach of it’s contents as she finally allowed the tears that had been forming to flow from her face. Letting herself feel everything as she pressed her hand to her lips to silence her sobs. She didn’t want to wake her family. Couldn’t bear to answer their questions or face the fact that she would need a lot more than just herself to save Feyre.  
Feyre. She thought as the tears continued. She had failed her yet again. Could not imagine what she was going through right at this very moment. But she couldn’t give up. Couldn’t let anything stop her. She needed to do what her mother taught her best and put up yet another wall. Put on her mask because right now Feyre’s safety was the most important thing to her. She would go into town tomorrow. It was too late to do it tonight and make someone listen to her. Make someone take her to the wall to save Feyre as she rose up to her feet looking at looking at her reflection in the mirror, washing her face off and letting her hair down with tears still streaming down her face. Putting on her mask one more as she made her way to the room she shared with Elain stripping herself of her tattered dress thankful that Elain was sleeping soundly as she crawled into bed next to her careful to avoid her touch as Nesta curled into herself and let the silent tears flow. 

A strangled cry escaped Nesta’s throat as the darkness consumed her every waking thought. Enough. She had had enough. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t fight the pain anymore. Didn’t understand why she was still trying to. Sinking down on the ground, Nesta placed her head in her lap feeling totally and utterly useless and alone. Feeling defeated and too far gone to ever get back up again. She didn’t know how far gone she was. Didn’t notice how much time had passed before a blinding light pierced her vision causing her to wince and look up. No. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. She was tired. So, so tired. Like all the fight had been sucked out of her.  
Looking up, Nesta gasped slightly as the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen in existence looked at her. Her hair the color of winter fire, light illuminating her skin. The silver of her eyes gazing upon Nesta with nothing but concern and sorrow. A compassion that Nesta had never known. Like the angel of death had come to finally take Nesta home.  
“Wh-Who are you?” Nesta chocked out her eyes sweeping over her.  
“Who I am is of no importance to you. Why is your heart filled with such sorrow?”  
Nesta’s gaze fixed on the angel as she strode over to Nesta causing her to flinch back. As the woman stopped, Nesta feeling a tingle throughout her body like her mind was being invaded. The woman pulled back surprising Nesta that she had gotten past her barriers as the angel sunk down to her knees wiping the tears from Nesta’s face. Such a human gesture that it surprised Nesta.  
“There isn’t much time to explain, but I need you to give me your hand. The cauldron has one last thing for you to get through, but I’m going to help you get through it.”  
“How are you going to help me get through it?” She sobbed. She didn’t know how much more she could possibly take.  
Grasping her hand, Nesta gasped at the contact, she was cold. So, So cold. Her skin as if it were made of ice.  
“This may hurt.” She promised as a cold so sharp passed through Nesta filling every inch of her like someone had poured ice cold water in her veins.  
It coursed through her body until it found it’s intended target, the fire that had fueled Nesta’s heart and soul. It latched onto it expanding that fire. Forging it and molding it to consume Nesta from the inside out.  
“Just as I suspected. A heart made of fire and a mind forged of ice. A warrior in her own right whose soul is intertwined with another’s. Quite the pair you two will be. It will be glorious and magnificent if you survive this. “  
“What are you talking about?” Nesta questioned. Was this the cauldron’s way of messing with her mind?  
“Your soul is bound to another, but not in the way of which you think. I need to strength that bond to get you out of here. It may come with some slight side effects, but I have a feeling you’ll thank me for it later.” She replied taking Nesta’s hand once more refusing to let her decide for herself as she felt that familiar call to her blood. Felt it deep within her bones. Felt it sing and rejoice as Nesta felt every core in her being burning her alive. That fire she had long since forgotten coming full front to the surface like it had been magnified.  
The woman let go causing Nesta to gasp out loud as she narrowed her eyes at her.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Making sure you never feel weak again.” The angel supplied touching Nesta’s forehead as that cold iciness shot through her mind and darkness overtook her once more. 

Gasping, Nesta coughed and sputtered as water shot from her mouth, her clothes burned and damp with sweat as she gazed at the scene before her, horrified. This was it. Her last task. The one she had to survive to get back.  
The intense feeling she had felt moments before now a distant memory as if she had imagined it as she took in the ravished lands, bodies, bruised and broken filled the battlefield, The ground crimson with blood as the ground desiccated beneath her feet carefully making her way to what was before her. The cauldron.  
Taking a closer look at the scene before her, Nesta gasped at the familiar faces laying in the battlefield. People she had known from all walks of her life. Human and fae. Some adults and some-Some children. This was his plan. The Kings. This was what was in his heart. To destroy all of those who imposed his vison for a better world. She could not. Would not let this happen. Because it was the shadow singer, Azriel she believed his name was. The one who treated her with nothing but kindness from the moment he first met her. More than she thought she ever deserved.  
He was laying amongst the dead, body bruised and broken. Hazel eyes unmoving and unseeing as if someone had finally taken him by surprise.  
Looking over beside him, Blonde hair fanned a female’s face, sword thrusted in her chest as Nesta’s chest rose and feel crying out for the girl. Morrigan of Truth.  
Rhysand and Feyre laid side by side to each other as a strangled cry feel from Nesta’s lips. Her sister’s neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Her body nearly unrecognizable, the same with Rhysand’s. He had saved the worst for them. The ones who had opposed him the most.  
“I’m sorry.” Nesta chocked out grasping Feyre’s hand. Too late. She was always too late. As she pulled her baby sister to her clutching her body in her arms. Staring down at her eyes. Nesta’s eyes. Their mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry I failed you.”  
She didn’t want to look anymore. Didn’t want to gaze upon the two bodies that had to be next, but she knew if she had any chance to stop this from happening. She had to get through this.  
Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, Nesta gently laid Feyre’s body down by Rhysand’s and turned around to see Elain. Her sweet and innocent sister who had never done anything to hurt anyone. Who was the exact opposite of everything she was. Who lived her life in joy and laughter despite the excruciating circumstances they had all faced. The one who had tried to hold them all together despite how hard they tried to fall apart. Elain was the good in the world. The one who kept smiling even through her tears. She had failed her as well. Failed to keep her safe. Just like she had done with her father. Just like she had done with Feyre.  
A blade struck the side of her neck, her blood soaking the ground beneath her as her mouth seemed frozen in a permanent scream. Her eyes. Their father’s eyes looking straight back at her. She had failed them all of them. She had to find a way to make it right.  
Moving up towards the cauldron, it had saved him for last. She wasn’t sure exactly why it had been him. After all they had hardly knew each other. Perhaps because it knew something that Nesta did not as she sunk down beside the warrior. Besides Cassian.  
His black hair cascading over his eyes, concealing his face as Nesta tentatively brushed it to the side. Looking upon his bruised and battered face. Fury filled her body as she looked over to the cauldron narrowing her gaze. Some primal instinct from within her taking over.  
His wings were snapped in many places, shredded. Even if he had not expressed it out loud Nesta knew of their importance to him. His bones jutted out of his body snapped in multiple places causing the fury to grow near unbearable. If she ever made her way back to him, she promised herself that she would rip anyone who dared to lay a hand on him to shreds. She would show them no mercy. Not where he was involved.  
Blinking at the thought, Nesta shook her head trying to comprehend where these intense feelings and emotions had come from as she took a deep breath feeling that familiar fire. That voice that had been in the back of her head guiding her this whole time. Was it him? Was he here with her?  
‘Come back to me’ The voice pleaded caressing the edges of her mind. Calling to her blood, her very soul. The heart that she had closed off for so long. Moving one foot in front of the other, Nesta moved towards the cauldron. To the call in her blood. Placing her hands upon it as she soaked up the magic from within taking as much as she could manage.  
Because she knew deep in her bones that this was not them. She realized. She knew that she had to survive to change the outcome. She had to give the king what he deserved. She had promised death, and death is what would be brought upon him. Because she was not this useless and broken girl that he expected her to be. She was strong. She could change other perceptions of her, show them the girl that she was rather than the one they made her out to be. She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she would forget some of this when she came out. Would take her some time to reconnect the pieces, but she knew that she was smart enough to figure them out.  
Because She was Nesta Archeron. She had the power to defeat him. To bring upon death itself. And she was coming for him. 

Her body slammed against the throne room floors feeling like it was hers and not hers at the same time as water pooled around her. Nesta opened her eyes, everything sharper more focused as she turned her head towards, fixating her eyes on the one person she had been looking for.  
His hazel eyes meet her blue-grey ones looking new but oh so familiar at the same time as a rush of emotions passed through her. As if the soul and heart she once thought had been shattered was starting to mend. As if they were connected by some force outside of their control. As if he were her…  
A familiar silent sob filled Nesta’s eyes as a silent message radiated throughout whatever was occurring between them. As she pushed those feelings to the side, because she was Nesta Archeron and she would make them all pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was by far one of the most difficult chapters I've ever had to write. Remember that you are not alone.


	3. Broken Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes through what happened between Nesta and Cassian after Hybern and their first meeting afterwards.

Cassian 

Blistering agony overtook Cassian’s sense, what remained of his wings felt as if they were on fire. The excruciating pain threatening to consume him, causing Cassian to wish that the darkness that had overtaken him before to save him from the endless suffering he was feeling.

Familiar voices flooded around him before someone placed him stomach down on the bed careful to avoid where the main injury was. His vision blurred seeing but not seeing, the voices disoriented, making it nearly impossible to tell who was speaking. Even with his fae senses. 

The door swung open; a female gasped at the sight that was before her. If he were severely injured, he could only guess that the gasp had came from Rhysand’s personal healer, Madja. 

“What the hell happened?” Madja asked, voice stern. 

“We ran into trouble when we were in Hybern, the king blasted us with his power and Cassian got the worst of the blow.” A male voice answered. Rhysand, he came to realize. Azriel wouldn’t be there in his condition.

The thought of it causing a pang in Cassian’s chest. 

“Was there anyone else who was injured?” She asked. Her voice getting closer. 

Cassian heard her bag opening bracing himself for the excruciating pain that was about to come. 

“Azriel got hit by one of their ash bolts- “Rhysand answered before Madja cut him off. 

“You should have told me that before you summoned me to help Cassian. Azriel also needs immediate attention. There’s an elixir in my bag. Have someone give it to the shadow singer to slow the poison until I get there. “

“Mor- “Rhysand commanded. 

“I’m on it.” Mor replied taking the antidote from Madja and racing out of the room. 

“Is there anyone else I should be worried about?” Madja asked rummaging through her bag for the supplies that she needed. 

“Yes. There were two women with us that need to get checked out. As far as we know they’re fine, but- “

“But what?”

“They-They were human.” Rhysand answered. Cassian hardly ever heard his brother’s words falter. 

“What do you mean were?”

“The king used the cauldron to turn them fae.” 

A gasp slipped from her lips, if Cassian could see Madja’s face, he knew her eyes would probably be filled with shock and horror. Maybe even a glint of anger. 

“My gods. I’m going to have to summon my assistant to check on them. God knows what injuries they must have sustained in there. Both physical and mental. Who is with them right now?” She asked. Rhysand hesitating in his answer. 

“They’re by themselves at the House of Wind.” Rhysand answered as Cassian’s temper rose. 

They had left them alone. How could they have left Nesta and Elain alone after what had happened to them? After they had got turned because they didn’t exercise nearly every option. After they had failed them. 

Nesta. The name ran through him grasping onto some instinct deep within him. A call to his blood demanding for him to go to her. Demanding that he protect her from further harm.   
Cassian attempted to lift himself up, muscles sore. Wings scorching in pain at the sudden movement. He didn’t give a shit. He had to get to her. Tell her how truly sorry he was and beg for her forgiveness. Not that he deserved it. 

Strong hands grasped him, keeping him down, a snarl tearing from his throat at who dared to stand between him and his-

The word clang through him igniting his senses. He knew exactly what Nesta Archeron was to him. Finally understood what had happened to them that day at her father’s estate. It was rare for it to occur between an Illyrian and a human, but it did happen. He just never guessed that it would happen to him   
Because Nesta Archeron was more to him than he originally thought. Nesta Archeron was his mate. 

Nesta

A shiver ran up Nesta’s spine feeling as cold as ice water as she looked around the house the blonde fae had dropped them off at before disappearing to God knows where. 

Ever since Nesta had awoke from that damned cauldron she felt as if her senses were in overdrive. Her vision was sharper, less blurred than from when she was a human. She could see almost every detail. Catch even the slightest imperfection. The light nearly blinding as her eyes tried to readjust. 

Her hearing had improved too. Overwhelming her with the amount of noise coming through them. The chirping from crickets outside, the sound of laughter flooding in through the open window from the patrons who inhabited this court. The sound of their feet on the cobble stones. The buzzing from a nearby lamp, the sound of her own frantic breathing as she tried to calm herself down, and worst of all, the sound of Elain’s soft cries. Breaking her heart in two that she couldn’t save Elain from this fate. Just as she could not save Feyre from hers. 

Shame and anger rippled through Nesta. Shame because the plan had been going so well and anger because Rhysand had not exercised every option. Had forgotten that there were more enemies to think about than just The King of Hybern and the Queens. Had forgotten how obsession could drive a person to the brink of utter madness. They hadn’t expected Tamlin and Ianthe. Hadn’t expected that the priestess would betray Feyre’s trust. 

Elain’s cries turned into sobs sending Nesta out of her racing thoughts and forcing her to concentrate at the matter at hand. Elain was in her arms, her tears soaking Nesta’s chest making Nesta feel relieved that Elain was feeling something. Anything. The coat from the fae male still wrapped around her delicate frame along with the nightgown that clung to her body. Just like Nesta’s was. Her breast somewhat exposed through the wet fabric, but she couldn’t care about herself. Not when everything was such a mess. She had to concentrate on one thing at a time. Just like her mother had taught her to do. 

Clothes. She needed to get Elain out of these wet clothes before she got sick. She could care less about herself now.

Gathering Elain in her arms and standing up on shaky legs, it took a lot of effort to walk Elain to the nearest room as she placed Elain on the bed. Her sister now shivering from wither the cold or utter terror clinging to Nesta’s nightgown when she tired to leave. She didn’t blame her. God only knew what that cauldron had put her through or if her experience had been like hers. Nesta wouldn’t push Elain to talk about it before she was ready. Nesta knew precisely what that felt like and she would never ask Elain to do the same thing. 

“I’m going to grab you a new nightgown. I’m not going anywhere.” Nesta promised soothing Elain’s fear. At least for the moment. 

Nesta made her way to the wardrobe grabbing the warmest clothes she could find as she went over to Elain. Guilt filling her at the emptiness in her eyes. Seeing but unseeing. Like she couldn’t believe this was really happening. 

“Greyson.” Elain whispered as realization hit Nesta. Greyson hated the fae. Hated everything about them and now Elain-

She should have fought harder for Elain. Should have fought off those guards- She should have done a lot of things. She realized. It always seemed like she was always failing both her sisters. No matter how much she tried to do the right thing. 

Her thoughts turned to Feyre. About the predicament she was now in. Her sister was now at the spring court, at the hands of the enemy that was responsible for turning them and making everything go to shit. Making a move now would be catastrophic. Would destroy any hope they had of getting the upper hand against Hybern. No matter how fragile it may be. She just hoped Feyre knew what she was doing. Hoped that Rhysand had a plan. He knew this world better. Knew what enemy he was facing. A lot more than Nesta did. This world still brand new and terrifying to her.   
She sent a silent prayer up to whatever God would still listen hoping that Feyre would be alright and knowing that if it came down to it, Feyre would find a way to protect herself, and so would the night court. Rhysand would ensure it. Because if Feyre was harmed, Nesta had no idea what she would do-

“Let’s get you out of these clothes.” Nesta suggested stilling her racing thoughts before moving towards Elain to help her, Elain grabbing her arm. Her hand ice cold, grip tight causing Nesta to gasp out in pain. 

“Elain, you’re hurting me.” She struggled to get out trying to get Elain to release her arm. Her grasp holding firm. Nails digging in. As Elain’s eyes rolled in the back of her head. The whites of her eyes exposed as she gasped out. 

“He’s going to kill us all.” 

Before Nesta could ask what Elain meant, Elain’s body went rigged, the whites of her eyes now fully exposed before she collapsed on the bed, her body convulsing. 

“Elain!” Nesta cried out, searching her mind for what her books had taught her to do in this case as she turned Elain to her side to avoid her biting on her own tongue or chocking on her vomit. She had no clue what to do. Had no idea had to contact anyone. 

Bile flew from Elain’s mouth splashing on Nesta’s clothes. Nesta’s senses on fire as pure panic shot through her. Feeling it grasp onto something, but she wasn’t sure what. Visions from earlier that night filling her mind. Hands grabbing at them. Helpless. She felt helpless. Elain’s cries for help. The blade at her throat. Nesta getting dragged by her hair, rough hands gripping and bruising her. The memories jumbled in her mind. Out of order. The door crashing open as Elain’s high-pitched screams filled them. Ianthe’s face coming into her field of vision. That blonde hair. Those blue eyes smiling down at her. 

The door flung open, power rippling through Nesta’s veins. The fire within them burning hot. Elain. She had to protect Elain from the blonde woman who stood in front of them. She wasn’t helpless not anymore. 

“Nesta.” Ianthe whispered; voice filled with fear. Good, she should be scared. 

Pure rage flooded through her, pure and utter disgust, and hatred as she bared her teeth, whatever was residing in her veins begging for a release as she threw whatever power she could at Ianthe. Power? Where did she-

The blonde fae moved out of the way in time, the power bursting though the wardrobe and several walls surrounding it. The edges frayed as plaster fell from them. Nesta turned her attention back to Ianthe, only to realize it had not been Ianthe who was standing there. 

The one who had dropped them off at the house sat on the floor now, looking at Nesta wide eyed. A hint of fear in her own eyes. No. That couldn’t be possible, it was- 

Chocking sounds filled the room, her senses on high alert once more as she turned back to Elain. Still on the bed convulsing, Nesta tried to move to her, but she had exerted herself. Blackness was now pulling at her own vision as she collapsed to the floor. Sickness filling the pit of her stomach making the blonde spur into action seeing her move towards Elain, another person on her heels, the silver eyes looking down at Nesta. 

“Help her please.” She struggled to get out before darkness dragged her under. 

Cassian  
“Something is wrong.” Cassian moaned out, Madja finishing the last of his stiches that were now keeping his wings together. His wings were surely going to scar when they healed. 

Thankfully. His vision had at least returned to him and Madja had given him something to numb the pain, so she could work. Rhysand was in the chair beside him. 

“I sent Mor to check on Nesta and Elain. If something is wrong, she’ll let us know.”

Cassian nodded not having the strength to argue, the raging feeling continuing deep within the pit of his stomach. He knew it would not settle until she was alright. Until her could see her for himself. He had his suspicions about them being mates but couldn’t confirm them until he saw her. 

“How’s Azriel?” He asked gritting his teeth as Madja put his now bandages wings into a splint. He would have to get used to that knowing he wouldn’t be out of it for a while. 

“He’s still unconscious, but he’s out of the woods for now.” Rhysand answered. 

“It looks as if I’m all done here. I’m going to leave you an elixir for the pain and I expect you to take it. Try not to go anywhere tonight. I know I don’t have the authority to tell you what to do, but you do need your rest. You took a major trauma to your body and I don’t need you to get an infection. It’ll be painful for you if you get one.”

Cassian nodded knowing better than to argue with Madja. If Rhysand trusted her, so did he. Rhysand thanked her as she talked to him about checking up on Azriel next before she went to go to the house of wind to check on Nesta and Elain. 

Nodding, Rhysand opened the door for her shutting it firmly behind him, leaving them alone. 

“We need to talk.” Rhysand sighed exhaustion filling his features. 

An array of thoughts filled Cassian’s mind about what they could talk about before Rhysand answered

“Feyre is more than just my mate.” He blurted out making Cassian’s eyebrows raise in question. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. The word mate sending his thoughts into a frenzy. 

“Before what happened with Hybern, Feyre and I got married- “

“You got married without telling any of us?” Cassian interrupted feeling somewhat offended that Rhysand hadn’t told him. 

“I did more than marry her.”

Cassian looked on in confusion. 

“I made her high lady.”

Nesta  
Floating. She was floating in the dark abyss. The water pulling at her and dragging her under refusing to let her go. Refusing to let her surface. Down, down she went. Down into the pool of her memories. To one that was still fresh and new in her mind. Refusing to let her forget its presence as the memory surfaced. 

Sleep hadn’t found Nesta easily that night, her mind restless as thoughts of him flooded her dreams. His promise. The way he had touched her. Wiped away her tears. The memory of his kiss on her neck. Sometimes her dreams went further than that kiss, further than what had happened after his tongue had licked her pulse igniting something within her that she hadn’t thought possible. Sometimes she thought of what would have happened if she hadn’t jerked away. What would have happened if she had let Cassian’s hands wonder further. His mouth… 

A strong hand clamped over her mouth hard ripping her from her slumber as a hand grasped her hair jerking her back to them before pressing a blade to her throat to silence her screams. Lips close to her ear as a voice threatened. 

“Scream and I’ll slit your throat.” It warned. The hand on her mouth tightening. Her thoughts racing, breath turning jagged as panic settled over her. How had this man made it through Rhysand’s guards?

“Do I make myself clear?” the man said digging the blade in further. A trickle of blood running down Nesta’s throat as she nodded needing him to trust her, so she could make her next move. 

The hand on her mouth loosened. Making a fatal lack of judgment as he dropped the blade from her throat and Nesta threw her head back as hard as possible connecting with the man’s nose, a curse springing from his lips before she sprang off the bed trying her best to make it to the door. To call for help, before the man grasped her ankle sending her flying down face first to the floor. Her mouth filled with a metallic taste, her knees burning from the impact. 

The man dragged her backwards, a scream erupted from her throat as she felt the full weight of his body press against her. Immobilizing her so she had no where to go. His knee digging into her back hard enough to break bone. Knocking the breath from her lungs and silencing her screams. 

“You broke my nose, you stupid bitch. You’re lucky the king wants you alive or else I wouldn’t be nearly as generous.” The man crooned. Nesta could have sworn she sensed smugness in his voice.   
Trying her best to wiggle free, the man chuckled, firmly grasping her hips to hold her down further, tears leaking from her eyes. As another memory flashed through her vision. No, she couldn’t think about that. Not when her life depended on it. 

Trying her best, Nesta screamed as loud as she possibly could, Before the man yanked her head back by her hair. Pulling at the roots, a cry of pain erupted from her throat as he laid, he full force of his body against her grasping her hands and lifting the above her head. 

“You mortals never fail to amuse me. Thinking you could beat any sort of fae when you are the inferior species. However, there is a certain pleasure in watching a human fight for their life. “He smirked before the door flew open revealing one of Rhysand’s guards. Thank the gods. 

Determination filled the man’s face as he stepped forward. Safe. She was safe. 

A pale hand struck out, faster than Nesta had anticipated. The knife the assailant had plunged deep into his throat sending gurgling noises from his throat as he chocked on his own blood dropping down to the floor as a fae woman stood there. Her pale blue dress covered in blood. Her hands coated the same shade of crimson, holding the knife in her hands in case she had to use it again.   
Her long blonde hair flowing as she trained her ice blue eyes on Nesta. 

“Must I do everything by myself?” she asked annoyance filling her voice as her eyes glanced over the man. 

“I was preoccupied.” The man grunted out. 

“Yes, I can see that you were preoccupied getting your ass handed to you by a mortal woman.” She smirked her eyes focusing on Nesta. Glazing over. Glamour. She realized. This woman was trying to use glamour on her. Thankfully, she had the upper hand in that department. 

“You must be Nesta. I’m Ianthe. “She smiled as Nesta bit her tongue wondering how this woman knew her name. “Feyre sent us here to retrieve you and Elain. For your own protection I’m afraid. That High Lord of the Night court had corrupted her thoughts. Tried to infiltrate her mind to make her believe you two were truly safe under his protection instead of Tamlin’s. Thankfully, she has managed to break out of his control and wants us to escort you back to a place where it’s safe. A place where all of you can be reunited.” 

Nesta fought the urge to roll her eyes at the amount of bull shit this priestess was spewing from her mouth. Although she probably didn’t think she would have to work hard to convince Nesta if her glamour had worked. 

“Feyre’s here.” She asked. Her eyes growing wide, feigning innocence 

“Not here no. She sent us to retrieve you.” 

“But why send you? Why not come herself? It seems strange for my sister to send a fae we hardly know to retrieve us if she truly thought we were in danger.”

“She got caught up in more pressing matters. I’m her friend. You can trust me.”

“Where’s Elain?” she asked. 

“Downstairs. Waiting for you, of course. Come along. We must hurry before anymore of those damn guards come.” She smiled as Nesta took a deep breath. The guard holding her keeping a tight grasp on her upper arm not taking any chances. She had to play this smart. Keep her advantage. 

The guard and Ianthe moved towards the stairs as Nesta saw her. Her hair in complete disarray. Eyes glazing over. Glamoured. Nesta realized as fury lit the fire in her veins. Good. She would need it for what came next. 

When they reached the top of the stairs, Nesta braced herself for the pain she would no doubt feel as she threw the full weight of her body into the guard that held her causing him to lose his footing and for both of them to take a tumble down the stairs. 

Thankfully, the guard had taken the worst of the blow as they finally hit the floor, his neck snapped in an unnatural direction his eyes unseeing. Thankfully, she had only managed to get a few bruises as she stood up looking at Ianthe, her face paled in shock and surprise. Good. 

Adrenaline taking over her body, Nesta raced forward grasping onto Elain’s hand trying to get her to come with her, but Elain wouldn’t budge. Shit. 

An exasperated sigh fell from Ianthe’s lips as she strode down the stairs taking her time. Panic sweeping over Nesta. 

“Elain! We must go! Come on!” She yelled hoping that it would somehow break the glamour. What had she done to her? 

“A human resistant to glamour. A magnificent sight truly. It’s something I haven’t heard of. Then again there’s nothing about you that seems normal. You truly are the perfect candidate. Our perfect test subject.”

Nesta’s breath caught as she gazed at the priestess. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked. Fear paralyzing her. 

“Lady Nesta- I heard a noise, what is- “Agnes murmured, eyes full of sleep as Ianthe moved quickly towards her. Blade slashing her throat before she could speak. Her body collapsing to the floor as six more guards strode in. 

“I wanted to make this easier, but you see now I’m angry. Kill everyone still alive in this house. We need no witnesses to come tracking us down. Take them to the carriage. Make sure the one who isn’t complacent hurts but try your best not to kill her. I have a feeling this one is going to be very special to our…. cause.” Ianthe smiled 

A guard strode forward punching Nesta in the gut, knocking the wind from her. Strong hands grasping her, hands going to her hair pulling her by it. As she bucked and kicked screaming into the abyss as the screams of the servants still left inside drowned her own. 

The abyss took her once more. Hands strong hands grasped her. Her body telling her to fight as screams erupted from her throat. Telling her to fight off the guards that were dragging her and Elain to the carriage. Fight off the guards who drug her out of the cage they had placed her and Elain in. Fight off the guards who had tossed her into the cauldron. Their hands tugging and pulling rough, just like Tomas’s had been that night and so many men before them. 

Her screams echoed, blood curling, petrifying screams that would no doubt wake anyone in sight. Still the hands gripped her. Still she fought striking out. Her heart pounding in her chest as she fought who held her. Preparing for yet another fight. 

“Nesta.” The voice called out. The voice familiar. Soothing almost. 

She still struggled. The hands holding firmly, but not painfully. Tears soaking her face as her chest rose in panic. She had to get out. Had to save herself before she could get to Elain. Had to.

“Nesta!” the voice pleaded. Holding her close. Their heartbeat beating as rapidly as her own. Voice filled with concern as panic also swept over them. Over their emotions. His scent filling her nostrils. His hands now feeling familiar. As she felt herself calm down slightly. The tears still flowing as she became aware of where she was and who she was with. 

“Cassian.” She sobbed as he pulled her into his lap allowing her face to lay at the crook of his neck. Shielding her from God knows what. 

“It’s okay, Sweetheart. You’re here. You’re not there anymore. You’re safe. You’re safe.” He repeated. The last one a near whisper as if he had to remind himself as well. His hands moving up and down her back in a calming gesture. Holding her close as she inhaled his scent. As she allowed this moment of vulnerability.

“Cassian.” A voice warned from the door. Unfamiliar to her now. 

“Get out.” He growled displaying that murderous calm she had saw on him that one day at her father’s estate. 

“Cassian- “Another voice warned. This one closer as if it were right by them. 

Cassian’s head snapped to them; his teeth bared. 

“I said leave. You’ve done enough.” He snapped. Agitation displayed on his face as a feeling of fear settled in the pit of her stomach. Not because she was afraid of Cassian, but what he might do if he didn’t calm himself. 

“Cassian.” She whispered gripping onto his leathers to pull his attention back to her. “I’m alright. It-It was just a nightmare. Just a memory. They’re- They’re only trying to help.” Whether it was for him or her she had no clue, but she wasn’t about to tell Cassian this. 

His hazel eyes softened. His concern for her returning as the fury she had seen in them faded. Her eyes met his not caring at least for a moment that they weren’t alone. Making it seem like it was only him and her. Like they were the only two people in the world. A call to her blood. A fire in her veins. 

“Come on. Let’s leave them alone.” A voice commanded. Rhysand, Nesta realized. 

“But- “Another voice interrupted. Mor- Nesta had now remembered her name. 

“It’s been two days since they were captured. They need food and some real clothes. I’ll call Nuala and Cerridwen down here and you can even pick out some clothes from the townhouse for them to wear. Now let’s go and that’s not a request.” Rhysand interrupted again as she heard feet shuffling, the door closing firmly behind them. 

“Elain- “she muttered. Her memory returning to her. Elain seizing on the bed. The whites of her eyes. As a feeling of dread pooled in her stomach. She had to get up. Had to check on Elain.   
As if he sensed her concern, he answered. “She’s sleeping. They managed to get her in a stable state, but she hasn’t woken up yet. You both were out for a while.” 

“Have we really been out for two days?” she asked pulling away slightly, but his hands still rested on her hips. As if the mere thought of losing contact with her would send him back into the state he had been in mere moments before. 

“That’s what Mor told Rhysand and I. I-I’ve been incapacitated myself. I would have been here sooner, but- “

“You were hurt. Are you- “she asked her gaze focusing on his wings. Still bandaged. Still injured. 

As if it were a reflex, she reached out, her hand going towards them, but he caught it. Intertwining his fingers with hers. 

“You don’t want to do that sweetheart.” He answered, voice gruff. Her eyebrows raising in confusion. 

“Why?” She asked. Wanting to talk about something. Anything besides the predicament they were all in. 

“Illyrian wings. They’re sensitive- “He started before she interrupted.

“I was going to be gentle with them, I wasn’t sure what possessed me to want to touch them in the first place, but- “

“They’re not sensitive in the way that you think Nesta.” He replied slipping his hand out of her fingers as she placed it back in her lap realization hitting her. 

“Oh.” She replied, a fierce blush spreading across her cheeks. Her hand still itching to touch them, to heal- 

Shaking her head, she looked down at her palms, remembering something else. 

“Did Morrigan tell you- Did she tell you what happened with me?” She asked putting distance between them. Her nerves had now since settled. But she needed to know. Needed to know how much he knew about what had occurred. 

“Yes.” He answered simply grasping her hands and stroking them. Normally it would annoy her, but his hands in hers. It was more of a comfort now than anything. And she was tired. Oh, so tired. 

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked silent tears falling from her eyes once more. “Wh-What’s happening to me?” 

“It’s-It’s your powers manifesting. Most fae have a particular power. I wish I had a different answer for you. I wish a lot of things.” 

Nodding, Nesta looked down at her hands, disgust feeling her senses at the thought of what they could do. What she could do. 

“I’m a monster.” She whispered as his hands moved from hers tilting her chin up, so her eyes could meet his. 

“You are no such thing. You did not choose what happened to you. You were forced into that cauldron by that bastard of a king who used you to send a message to us. None of this is your fault. If you want to blame someone. Blame me. Blame us for not protecting you. Blame those queens for selling us out, Blame Ianthe, Blame the spring court, and most importantly blame the king, but don’t you dare blame yourself. This was our mess, and we should have never dragged you into it. “He replied his voice fierce.

A cluster of emotions whirled through her before they settled, her own fury consuming her. 

“And what about you? Do you blame yourself? Do you regret it?” she asked not to berate him or shame him, but she needed to know. Needed to know that him breaking his promise wasn’t for nothing. “Do you regret breaking your promise to us to save your friends life?” 

“I regret that I couldn’t save all of you. I should have known. Should have suspected. I should have fought harder. Been stronger, but- I don’t regret that I saved Azriel’s life.” Shame filled his gaze. She had known it. Had felt it many times. 

“Your friend is alive because of you. Don’t feel shame because of that. If-If the situation had been reversed. I would have done the same thing you did.” She swallowed. 

Hating how open she was with him, how vulnerable he made her feel, but she needed to feel it. Needed to process everything even if her anger won out at some points. She needed to remember this moment, because she had no clue what they were in store for next. This was possibly the only moment of peace they would get for a while and she wouldn’t waste it. 

“It doesn’t matter. I still-.” He whispered before she looked at him fixing him with her gaze and cutting off what he was about to say. 

“Don’t.” she simply said making him sigh shifting his weight off the bed. Shocking herself at how much she missed his warmth. 

“I should go. You’ve been through a lot and you need your rest. I’m not going to lie to you, Nesta. It’ll get harder from here. And this transformation, it-It won’t be easy.” He answered looking down at her.

She knew he was right. Knew that there was nothing easy about this 

“But I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to help you. I will not break one of my promises again. I owe you that much. And when the time comes, when we come face to face with that bastard who turned you. Who made you go through this pain. I swear I’ll rip him to shreds.” 

Nesta looked at Cassian, really looked at him as a different emotion hit her. Not for him, but for the person who he spoke of. The promise she had made herself and to the king when she had been dunked in that cauldron. Cassian wasn’t the only one who would uphold his promise no matter what it took. 

“Not if I get to him first. You aren’t the only one with a promise to uphold” She challenged their eyes locking as silence filled the room. As she let herself think of all he had done. 

As Cassian and her looked at each other not in fear, not in attraction, but in understanding. In that fire that had always burned between them making her feel more connected to him than she ever had before. A silent promise between the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially, I was going to make this chapter longer, but I decided to split this chapter up because there's so many details and things that occur between these two that I didn't want to run the risk of it being too long. I'll definitely be making more chapters about their time together and the difficulties that come with Nesta's transformation.


	4. I Am the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nesta watches Cassian on the battlefield

There was a storm coming. 

Nesta could feel it in her bones. Like a call deep within her blood. The call from it near unbearable as her eyes scanned the blood-soaked valley down below. Where their forces were. Where he was.   
Down below it appeared as if the odds were against them. At first, they had had the advantage. Was sure they knew what to expect. It had appeared they all forgot the first rule of battle: Never underestimate your opponent. 

They hadn’t expected Hybern’s forces to charge right at them, their forces taking down the dark bringers first. Their bodies piling, swords impaling them, slicing at them, and charging into their folds.   
A sense of uneasy and dread filled the pit of her stomach as she tried to quench her anguish as Nesta turned her gaze to where Cassian was. Her breath catching slightly, her palms prickling with sweat as she fought the urge to wipe them on her skirts. 

Cassian was yelling something to Keir, Nesta hoped that the stubborn man would listen. Her gaze would never leaving Cassian. 

Arrows and spears shot towards them, a few shooting towards Cassian’s general direction. Time stood still, her heart slamming into her chest. The storm in full force making it nearly impossible for her to see him. But somehow, she did. Saw that Cassian had dodged the spears and arrows, saw him toss out that power of his. 

‘Careful.’ She thought. 

His siphons were dimming slightly. The source of his power. He was using too much of it. He needed to preserve it. Wait until the moment he needed it the most. 

As if Rhysand could guess what she was thinking, he yelled an order at Cassian, Nesta praying that Cassian for once would listen. But that was not what had happened. Ignoring Rhysand’s orders, Cassian jumped up, his next vintage point in his mind as a sharp, high-pitched gasp escaped her lips as Cassian landed in the middle of Hybern’s forces. His sword clashing with one of Hybern’s soldiers. The thunder seeming to boom at the contact. A silent storm raging within her, threatening to tear her from the inside out. 

‘What are you doing?’ She wanted to scream at him. ‘Why didn’t you follow orders?”

“Reform the damned lines!” Mor yelled. Frustration filling her voice. Her and the blonde woman rarely agreed, but for once Nesta couldn’t help but do so. 

Eyes focusing on Cassian, all she could do was watch as he cut through solider after solider. Her breath becoming more erratic with every swipe that got closer to him. With every solider that tried to infiltrate him. Yes. She knew he was skilled, was probably the best warrior out there, but that didn’t stop the power roaring in her veins. Nor did it stop that gravitational pull she felt to go down there herself so that she could protect him. To keep him safe. Her power screaming to be unleashed. To bring the real storm. 

The stench of blood and death filled her nostrils, her eyes pinpointing the shadow singer who was now making his way to Cassian. Being pushed back every time he made the slightest bit of progress.   
Nesta felt as if she had been punched in the gut. Finding it harder to breath. Her eyes gazed back to Cassian. It was as if Hybern’s forces knew who their biggest target was. Knew the person they needed to take out. 

Rain pelted her forehead, soaking her skirts making her feel heavy. The storm was getting worse. Mud was now cacking the soldier’s bodies. Feet slipping in the mud as a pile of solider made their way to Cassian piling themselves onto them. Looking as if he were about to lose his fight. Dread filling the pit of her stomach, bile raising in her throat. Her heart beating faster as Cassian nearly missed a sword to the abdomen. Surrounded. They were all surrounded. 

“Mother above- “Nesta proclaimed, her voice trembling. A silent prayer dying on her lips as another solider swiped at Cassian. Halting her prayer. 

“They can fix this.” Feyre answered not sounding sure of herself. Nesta didn’t blame her. There was so much uncertainty in the air. Even Nesta wasn’t sure they would make this out of here alive.   
Somewhere, in the heart of the battlefield, an explosion went off leaving embers in its wake. Her breath hitched, placing a hand to her chest before she looked down to see Cassian. The soldiers that surrounded him before were no longer. His eyes glancing towards her for a moment. A moment of peace before the soldiers surrounded him yet again. Where were they all coming from? 

Rhysand and Azriel tried but failed to get to Cassian. Hybern’s forces coming at them from all directions. She was so immersed in the battle that she barely noticed Feyre and Mor going off to speak privately. Nesta had no idea what they were discussing, but she hoped it was a plan in case the battle went awry. 

Nesta’s heart ached, her pulse beating rapidly against her wet skin while she continued to look on. Not caring about, herself as her gaze focused on Cassian who appeared to others as if he were holding his own, but she knew him. She knew when he was tired. Could feel it in her bones when he was hurting and on the edge of surrender. Saw the flicker of his siphons. One false move. All it would take him was one false move to turn this battle against him. They needed more help and they needed it now. They needed another solider who knew the battlefield. Another solider with a fire in her veins.   
Briefly taking her eyes off her warrior, Nesta turned to Mor and Feyre, who had been probably arguing about the same thing. At the moment it didn’t matter what Mor wanted. Rhysand was on the battlefield which made Feyre in charge. She was high lady after all and if Mor was resisting her order perhaps all Feyre needed was someone to back her up. To remind Mor who ranked over her. 

“Help them.” Nesta added turning back to Cassian who charged at yet another of Hybern’s commanders. 

Everything in her body screamed at her. Every sense on fire. Begging her to join him. Her stomach rolling, her joints somehow in pain like they had finally realized how long she had been standing there, her heart and her mind in a constant battle with one another making her head throb in agitation. Her heart begging her to shatter everything in her sight to get to him. That was until she saw it. Saw Mor stop someone from marring Azriel as they made their way towards Cassian thanking the Gods that she had finally listened. 

But the armies were too fast, taking them down, step by step. A scream threatening to erupt from her throat as she laid a hand against her bare throat hoping to silence it. The last thing Cassian needed right now was another distraction. And she didn’t know why. Didn’t know how, but she knew that if she let that scream tear from her throat, that he would answer her cries. Answer her call. Just like he always seemed to. She seemed nearly out of breath when he began another assault. Her magic was damn near driving her mad with panic as movement caught at the corner of her eye. Feyre. 

“You’re leaving?” she asked. It coming out harsher than she intended it to, but it had been a small comfort to have her there. To know that she was safe instead of down there on that battlefield. She couldn’t bare to have another person she lo- cared about down on that battlefield. She loved Feyre and Elain no matter how frustrating they were, but Cassian. What she felt for Cassian she wasn’t sure of yet. Could not begin to describe when everything between them was so complicated.

“I’ll be back.” Feyre answered. A sense of assurance in her eyes. 

Nesta knew that her youngest sister knew what she was doing. Was more skilled with this kind of stuff than she ever would be. Knew that if Nesta volunteered to go with her, she would automatically say no. Saw in her eyes that what she wanted to do, she wanted to do herself. And Gods damn it something was rooting her there. Tugging at her subconscious. Keeping her there. Her mind telling her she would be more of a problem if she went with Feyre than an assistance to her. So, she nodded turning back to the battle as Feyre set off to do whatever she needed to do to ensure that they all survived.   
The minutes turned seemed as if they were hours as she watched Cassian fight. His breath hitching. Trying to make his way back to reform the lines. To fight with his men. His armor, face, and hair caked in mud. Looking every bit of the fierce warrior she had meet at her father’s estate that day. 

Once more his eyes looked up to hers. Once more she felt as if her heartbeat was in time with his. Feeling that connection with him once more. Feeling as if they were the only two people in the world. Feeling as if his flames licked at her own. Engulfing her with that eternal flame until she could barely stand it. Could barely stand to be away from his touch, his ki-

A battle cry erupted from a soldier’s throat as his sword collided with Cassian’s. The wind seeming to pick up pelting the two with rain, making both at a disadvantage. Nesta’s eyes searched the battlefield. Prayed that someone was close as it felt as if an invisible hand went around her throat. Chocking her. Causing her to gasp for air. Something was off. Something was wrong. Darkness clouded the edges of her vision as she begged herself to breath. 

Azriel. He was almost there. Had managed to make his way to Cassian as Mor came in from the other end. Still fighting off some warriors. One wrong move. One false move and- Cassian leapt up in the air as the Hybern solider swiped as his blade-

A sharp, searing pain erupted from her abdomen, a grasp escaping from her lips as she crumpled down to the ground falling on her knees, her hands barely catching her, scraping against the dirt as someone calls her name racing towards her. She doesn’t bother to see who it is. Vomit threatening to escape from her lips at the pain. It wasn’t the type of pain that the cauldron brought upon her. No this was a different sort of pain. A pain that was ten times more excruciating, because this was not her pain. There was no blood on her dress. No wound that she could see. But she could feel it. Sense it as a pair of familiar hands grasped her and she looked up into the face of Amren. Her silver eyes meeting Nesta’s. 

“What is it, girl? What’s wrong?” 

“Cassian.” She whispered lifting herself up as she scanned the battlefield for Cassian her breath catching in her throat as Azriel clutched him. Cassian’s face twisting in pain. He was hurt. He was-   
Her eyes surveyed him searching him until she found his injury. Blood that was blood on Azriel’s hands. Fresh. And it kept coming. Cassian’s blood soaking the mud slicked ground. As fury infiltrated every part of her. Her eyes burning with rage as Amren sucked in a breath. The rain rushing around them, the wind picking up but her eyes refused to leave Cassian as Azriel lifted him up. Mor finally making her way to them as Azriel shouted something at her as she grasped both and winnowed them out. Winnowed them to get Cassian the help that he needed, but her fury remained. A threat bigger than any storm. 

She looked out into the battlefield. Looked at the face of the man whose throat was now slashed. His blood soaking the earth where Cassian’s was. His dead eyes staring into nothing as Nesta lifted herself out of Amren’s arms. The wind wiping her hair. The storm coming around her. As she looked down upon the enemy. Down upon every one of Hybern’s men that were still alive. Marking every one of their faces. If they survived this. If they won, this battle. Those men would not be shown a merciful death. Those men who sided with Hybern. Who hurt those she cared about. Who had hurt Cassian. They would pay and this storm, this storm was nothing compared to the next person who dared lay a hand on him. 

She was done. Done pretending. Done with not being apart of this fight. Because this would not be the worst storm they would see. They would soon see that the storm wasn’t a manifestation of nature. They would soon realize that the storm was a person. And she was the storm.


	5. The Sun Will Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian wants to cheer Nesta up.

“You know you don’t have to stay and keep me company.” Azriel suggested looking down at his glass of brandy throwing a look to Cassian who was now staring at his own. His mind elsewhere. 

“Where else would I go?” Cassian replied taking a swing of his brandy and grimacing. 

It was a few hours until dawn and him and Azriel had picked a bar to occupy after he had witnessed Mor and Helion flirting for what felt like hours. Even Cassian had felt uncomfortable. Not because he had an attraction to Mor, but because he could sense the pain in Azriel’s gaze. The wonder as to why Mor had no interest in him. He knew that feeling all too well, but sometimes it seemed-

“Maybe to the person’s company you would actually enjoy.” Azriel shot back giving him a sideways glance. “Perhaps Nesta- “

“Do you have any idea what time it is? If I sauntered over to Nesta’s room in the middle of the night and woke her, I would get way more than just a swift kick to the balls. And getting kicked by her there once was enough to last me a lifetime.” 

Azriel’s eyes lifted, amusement on the shadow singers face. Bastard. 

“You have yet to share that story brother.” Azriel smiled obviously trying to coax it out of him, but he didn’t want that. Didn’t want to tell Azriel about what he felt that day. What had happened before she had kicked him in the balls and sent him on his way. 

Sometimes he could still feel that pulse on her neck beating in rhythm. Her soft moans filling his ears, the tightness of her body, and the curve of her hips. The fast pace of her human heart, one of the very few attributes that still solely belonged to her. 

“Maybe some other time.” He smiled sipping on his drink. The taste no longer appetizing. 

“You should at least go back to Thessan’s and get some sleep. I’ll be fine here.” Azriel smiled, Cassian opening his mouth to interject while Azriel sighed. 

“I’m a grown ass male Cassian. I can take care of myself. Besides, I saw that look on your face tonight when you went to go check on Nesta. I know you’re still worried about her. Even if you don’t speak with her, I know at least being in that house with her would be a small comfort.”

“I would hardly call it a hou-“Azriel’s gaze caught him off once more. “Alright, alright. I’m going, but if something goes amiss or you get into any trouble, you better send one of those shadows to come find me.” 

“Deal.” Azriel smiled taking another pull of his drink as Cassian walked out of the tavern shooting up into the skies, taking flight, and enjoying his few moments of peace before he settled onto the balcony of his room wanting nothing more than to go to bed when moans filled the room causing him to roll his eyes. The least those two could do was be quite so the rest of them could get some gods damned peace and quiet. 

Sighing, Cassian walked to his door about ready to go knocking down on Mor’s door to tell her to be quiet when a dim light caught him off guard. Coming from the library. Every sense within him ignited calling him to the light like it was a flame as he moved towards the library shoving the door gently as Nesta laid there, sprawled on one of the sofas, the book perched on her stomach. Her eyes closed, looking peaceful. He wished he could capture this moment. Savor this moment that he had finally saw her at peace, but he knew if he didn’t wake her or at least get her to her room and on her actual bed, she would have a damn creak in her neck in the morning. 

Moving as quietly as possible, Cassian gently took the book she had been reading as her eyes sprang open, she moved up so swiftly that he hadn’t seen her coming and her head collided with his nearly knocking him over in the process. Thankfully, he knew exactly how to recover. Knew how to keep himself upright despite the small groan that escaped his lips. 

“You know for a woman who lacks training, you sure know how to land heavy blows.” Cassian remarked before she could say anything. 

“Well forgive me if I didn’t know you were there. Perhaps, next time, instead of scaring me half to death, you should try calling my name to wake me instead.”

His face flattered. “It wasn’t my intention to startle you. I didn’t want you to get a creak in your neck by sleeping at an odd angle, I was about to take you to your-“His words died out as her gaze caught his. Getting to her feet, swaying slightly as he steadied her to stop her from falling. 

“I came here, because I couldn’t-“

“Sleep.” He finished as her eyebrows lifted in question. “Mor and Helion must be keeping the whole court up with their. Well, you know. And I know you don’t know how to throw a sound barrier up in your room. “

“Well, it’s not like I’m going to knock on the door and interrupt them. I couldn’t sleep anyway, so they weren’t really disturbing me. The others however- “

“Can manage. Why couldn’t you sleep?” he asked 

She took a deep breath, contemplation heavy on her face before answering.

“That sense of dread is still heavy in my stomach. I know everyone keeps telling they’ve checked every possibility, but there must be something we’re missing. I-I just can’t figure out what that is. That and…”

“What? What is it?” He asked. 

“The nightmares are getting worse.” She answered setting the book back on the shelf where she had found it, her eyes searching for something that possibly wasn’t there. Avoiding. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked knowing that he probably shouldn’t have, but not being able to stop himself. 

He remembered after the cauldron, the weeks following up to this. How Nesta’s fear would fill the bond. How her nightmares would leak into his dreams. So vivid and horrific that he would tear out of his own bed, pacing the floor contemplating about whether to go to the house of wind to comfort her. To wipe away her tears and tell her that everything was going to be alright. Remembering how Mor and Rhysand told him he wouldn’t be able to help her with every nightmare. Every bad feeling. But he wanted to. Gods did he want to. It was their fault she was going through this. He just didn’t want her to be alone. He wanted to be there for her, but he knew that Nesta was one of those people who preferred handling her problems by herself. Tonight however-

“They’re only nightmares.” She answered, her voice barely a whisper as Cassian tilted her chin up so that she was looking into his eyes. 

“It doesn’t mean that they’re not upsetting you or keeping you awake at night. “

Her blue-grey eyes searched before she settled on an answer. 

“I-It’s hard to talk about. You know this.” Nesta answered at last stepping back, his hand falling. He fought the urge to rub art them where he felt the loss of her skin on his the most. That’s when an idea came to him. 

“I want to show you something.” Cassian replied catching Nesta off guard. 

Her eyebrow lifted in question as he extended his hand. “Please.” 

Hesitating for only a moment, Nesta slid her hand into Cassian’s as he led her from the library, past the noise and to his room. She halted for half a second before narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

“It’s not what you think.” He answered quickly opening his door as she stepped inside, and he shut the door behind them. 

“So, what is it you want to show me?” She asked as grabbed a light jacket and opened the balcony doors. 

“Follow me.” He requested. 

“We’re not flying, are we?” She asked 

“No. Not right now. You might want to put this on though. It can get chilly in the mornings. “He answered handing her the jacket which she looked at for half a second before putting it on and following him outside. 

“You wanted to show me the view?” She asked the balcony small enough to where they had to stand side by side. Their bodies brushing together. If he was right it should happen at any moment now. 

“More than that sweetheart. Keep your eye on the horizon. “He answered as she smiled slightly but turned her attention to where the sun was starting to rise. He had always heard that the dawn court had mesmerizing sunrises. And Gods knew when he would get this opportunity to see it again. 

“Wow.” She whispered watching as the signs of dawn started illuminating the skies, the skies painted a beautiful shade of golden yellow, red-orange, and violet-red. Beautiful, breathtaking. 

“I’ve always enjoyed looking at sunrises when life seemed to get hard. To me I appreciate them more than sunsets.”

“And why is that?” she asked genuinely curious for the answer. 

“Because the sunrise reminds me that no matter how hard yesterday or the day before might have been that I made it through to another day. That I woke up when so many others have not. That I’m still breathing even when it feels like I’m- “

“Drowning.” She finished her gaze focusing back on him, a look he couldn’t quite place crossing over her face. They were mere inches from each other now. 

“Exactly.” He whispered as her gaze flickered to his lips. He took a tentative step forward brushes his hand on her cheek. Her gaze lifted to his, her breath catching slightly. 

“Nesta- “

“Yes?” she asked sounding a little breathless. 

“Can I kiss you?” He breathed, nervous preparing himself for the rejection that would inevitably happen. He-

“Yes.” Nesta breathed out. 

It was all he needed as his arm wrapped around her waist gently pulling her closer to his body as he tilted her face up once more to meet his before her arms wrapped around his neck and his lips brushed against her forehead first before his lips found her own kissing her as gently as possible. Before their kiss deepened. Before one kiss became two, three, four. As if they couldn’t get enough of each other. 

His tongue slid past her lips wanting to taste more of her. Her lips parted allowing him entrance as their tongues brushed against each other. He could kiss her for hours. Lose himself in the desire he felt for her kiss. For her touch. 

Pulling away slightly, but not enough to where his hands weren’t still on her waist. Cassian gazed down upon Nesta as a tint of pink brushed her cheeks wondering what she could be thinking about. 

“Sweetheart-“he started before she stepped out of his embrace. 

“W-We should get some rest. Thank you for showing me the sunrise.” She blurted out rushing back inside before he could stop her. 

But before Cassian could manage to ask her to stay, Nesta was already gone. The taste of her still on Cassian’s lips.


	6. And So My Heart Became A Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle has been won, but the war is never really over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title credit goes to the song "And So My Heart Became A Void." by Ursine Vulpine and Annaca. I think this song fits Nesta's journey quite well. This chapter includes various self deprecating thoughts due to trauma and war PTSD. Death. Survior's guilt. self harm, abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms with alcohol.

Blood coated Nesta’s hands as she stared at it drying up getting in between the crevasses of them, seeing yet unseeing. No one ever remarked how much blood was truly in the human body until they were forced to face it. Blood. There was so much blood. She was coated with it. Her blood, the blood of her greatest enemy, and his- no she couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t think about him. Not now. Couldn’t think about his blood flowing underneath her hand, his slowing heartbeat, Elain’s words, what she had done… The pain in Elain’s eyes, the pride and love in his. The life going out of her fath- 

No. 

Trying to keep the memory out of her mind, the snapping of his neck, there one minute-and gone the next. 

‘Failure.’ Her mind hissed at her. Failing. She always seemed to fail. Even when she tried, she failed. What was the point? Why did it matter when the people she loved always-?

“Lady Nesta?” A voice asked snapping her from her thoughts. Startling her. 

“Yes.” She heard herself say, her voice seeming foreign to her.

“I’ve prepared the buckets. You can wash up whenever you’re ready.” The Illyrian female said. Her voice seeming gentle. A look of despair and sadness in her own eyes. Had she lost someone to this war too? Had it been during the blast. The blast where she had failed to protect people yet again. 

Failure. 

The female turned to leave as Nesta called out to her. 

“What’s your name?” She asked. Not knowing why, she did it, but the question was already out before she could stop it. 

“Emerie.” The female answered. 

“Thank you for bringing me the buckets. You didn’t have to.”

“I know.” Emerie answered leaving the tent. Leaving Nesta alone to her thoughts. 

She knew she should wash the blood off, get cleaned up, but her attention kept on going to her palms. In the horrors and wonder that they could do. Her powers, so foreign to her now caressing her as if it were a lover. As if it was her salvation and domination at the same time. Dangerous. These powers were dangerous. These hands were dangerous. These hands not only healed, but they destroyed as well. Death. Life. Somewhere in between. She didn’t know. Refused to know until she needed them again. No person human or fae should have the power she possessed. The power that had consumed her, the power that had killed the king, the rage that consumed her along with something else, something more. 

The bond. The one that have drove her to protect Cassian at all cost. The bond that had propelled her forward, the rage at the king for trying to kill the man she lov- but was that true? Did she love Cassian? She had felt something in those moments when they were alone. Had felt something for a while now. Had felt the power in his kiss in those last moments they had together. She swore she could still feel it. It was embedded in her deep in her bones. She knew without a doubt now that he was her mate. 

Mate. The word clung through her. Hallow and cold. Of course, he was. Because who would ever truly love her without some cosmic force telling them too. Grabbing the wash rag and twisting it in her hands, Nesta started to scrub at her skin. Recounting every memory, every kiss, every touch. Had he meant them? Had she meant them? How were they even supposed to know? Had he known? Could he sense it? Feel it? Why hadn’t he told her? Was he- Was he ashamed of it? Ashamed of how he felt for her? 

“I have no regrets in my life but this-“she whispered. The memory of his words still fresh in his mind. Were they his words? Were they the bonds? How much of it was real? How much of it- 

‘No.’ Her mind thought, she couldn’t think about it. It didn’t matter anyway. For who could love a monster like her? A monster whose own selfishness had brought on the death of her father. A monster who had failed to protect not one, but both her sisters and her mate. She didn’t deserve them. Any of them. All she would bring to their lives was pain. 

Failure. She scrubbed at the blood harder. Her mothers voice echoing in her head. 

“Do not filly our head with useless lies. If you believe that a man will marry you for love instead of what you can offer him than you are nothing but daft.”

His touch, his kiss, his words…bond. Always the bond. How many others had deluded themselves into thinking it was more than just that? She wasn’t Feyre. There was nothing about her that was worth loving. How many people had to prove that to her before she grasped it? 

Tears welled in her eyes as she chocked them down scrubbing harder. 

“Ladies do not cry. Ladies do not show our emotions. Your emotions are not your strength. When you’re older, you’ll understand.” 

She scrubbed harder, the blood mixing in with the water. 

Her mothers cough. Blood. So much blood. On the handkerchief, on the sheets, her mother’s face. Death. So much death. 

Her breath came in faster. Harsher, but still she scrubbed. 

Elain’s lips chapped. Her eyes pleading. 

“Nesta…” Her father’s voice blending with that memory and the one where he saw her on the battlefield. The shame and regret in his eyes both times. How could her anger blind her so much? How did she not notice? 

Monster. 

Nesta scrubbed at her hands, the blood still there. On her hands. On Feyre’s hands. Blood. Her little sister terrified. Always terrified. She had failed her. Failed her in every way imaginable. She deserved the hatred. The unkind words, and the harsh stares. She was a monster. She always would be no matter how much she tried to do better. To be better. 

Failure. Always a fucking failure. 

“It should have been me.” She whispered aggressively. “It should have been me.” 

Her cruel words. What she had done to survive. What they both had done to survive. Enough. It never would be enough. She should have done it all. Should have shredded herself apart for Feyre as much as she did for Elain, but her anger prevailed. Nothing she did after that day would ever truly make it right. Cassian had been right. Had always been right. She couldn’t blame anyone else for this beside herself. 

She couldn’t even save her baby sister when she went to prythin. Failure. Always a failure. She should have tried harder. Should have…Should have done more. She was weak. She was worthless. They were all right. Every one of them. 

Failure. Her mind snapped. As she saw a bruise forming underneath her skin where her arm had hit the tree after the king had smacked her. Smacked as Tomas had done before. Smacked so hard that she had fallen straight into their family’s fireplace, his mother gaping at her son who had sauntered off in anger and disgust at Nesta. His mother rushing to her side, offering her assistance like she had done so many times before. Helping her to their tiny bathroom where she had shown her how to apply makeup to the bruises that were forming. The ones that could be hidden. So, her family would not worry. Telling her that Tomas hadn’t meant it. He wasn’t like his father. Only he had been. 

They had both been in denial about that. But who could they have told? Who would have listened? His mother had already attempted and while the Tomas’s family wasn’t the richest or the most successful, they still held respect and the village still expected the wives of these men to hold their tongues. So, she had kept everything hidden. Had covered her bruises and kept her emotions in check. Until he made his way in her life-until Cassian-

How had he known? Was it because he knew the signs? Or was it because of the bond between them? Had it alerted him to her pain? Had her thoughts slipped into his? Had his promise been because-No- It couldn’t be that, or could it? They had hardly known each other. Goddess above. She thought placing her head between her hands. How could she have been so stupid to think that he had loved her, that he had cared.

People felt things because of the bond all the time. Especially the males. She had seen it happen with Lucien. He also had hardly knew Elain before he was willing to protect her. Why the hell didn’t she think Cassian had been the same way? How long did she have to sit there fooling herself before she got it? Mate or not, love of her life or not, it didn’t matter, not with who she was. What she was? He would always be in danger with her. They all would be. Her power had assured that. There was no way in hell that the king was the only one who wanted to possess that. She had to keep them safe. Keep them all safe. From the monsters who threatened them. Herself included. That power within her would end up destroying them all. She wouldn’t allow that to happen. 

She wouldn’t allow the monsters to hurt Feyre. Her sister who was braver than she ever would be. A sister that she didn’t deserve. A sister who had suffered so much because of her. Her first failure and her biggest one. She never deserved Feyre’s forgiveness no matter what she did to try to make up for it, she would always fail her, would always need saving. Would always be pout at risk to save Nesta’s life, she couldn’t do that to her. She refused. She wouldn’t understand at first, but hopefully on day she would. 

Monster. 

She wouldn’t allow the monster to hurt Cassian. Wouldn’t allow the monsters to take him from the world. His soul was too pure. This world would destroy him if he stayed with her. And he didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve for his soul and his heart to be tainted because of his love or whatever it was for her. Didn’t deserve his life intertwined with hers because the universe told him so. Didn’t deserve to have his life at risk time and time again. She could still feel it. Still feel the pain and despair that had fallen upon him when she had called out to him, propelled by some unsee force. Too late to stop the blast. Not quick enough to save the others. She remembered the pain and devastation on his face when he had grasped what had happened. Seen the soldiers he had fought beside all his life perish before him. She had hated herself for it. Hated that she had caused him such pain. Sure, she had saved his life, but at what cost? The guilt he must have felt in those moments, she had felt it herself. Because those deaths were on her hands as well. 

Goddess only knew why the king had chosen that specific rank to blast into. Had he known even then what Cassian had meant to her? Had he known the way to get to her was through him? Through the people she loved most. 

His words during the battle floated back to her. Remembering what he had said about seeing Cassian crawl towards her that day in Hybern. He had known about the bond before they had. How could she not have seen it? Her fault all her fault. 

Her father’s death, Cassian’s pain at the king’s hand. His wings, he had almost lost his wings because of her. He had already lost so much just being around her. She still felt him, bruised, bleeding, and broken in her arms. Her tears escaping her unable to contain herself. Had remembered his gentle touch, the softness of his lips. His promise to find her again in the next life. The next life, as if he knew what the future held for them if they had survived this. As if he had sensed that they would not make it through this. For in that moment, she had felt the peace, had laid her body on top of his ready to die without a shadow of a doubt, because she refused to leave the one person in this world that had fought for her no matter what. Had wanted their last moments to be ones of comfort and love than pain and despair. Had refused to back down ready to take the worst of the kings blow when Elain had saved them. Risking her life for Nesta’s. People always seemed to be risking their life for the monster that they loved. 

Monster. 

She remembered the blade digging into his skin, the savage and brutal way she had killed him. A blade given form. Most of the blood on her was his. She had not felt guilty for killing a person who had brought them such pain. Only that she had not known how much of an affect it may have on her in the future. Showed her how much of a monster she could be when pushed. Showed her her own inner violence. The product of her rage. She was not God. Who was she to decide who lived and who died? Who was she now that every single one of her morals were no longer in check? It was something that she had to figure out when the time came. 

For right now her mind made her remember the worst of it all. The terror in Elain’s face having seen what her sister had done. The terror of seeing what a monster her sister could be as well as what she could also do when pushed. For as long as she lived Nesta would never forget the blood on Elain’s hands. Her innocence shattered with the force of that blow. 

Understanding finally hitting her about what those around her were capable of, what she was capable of. And Nesta was the reason she had to do it. She would never forgive herself for ruining Elain’s life. For ruining Feyre’s and Cassian’s and everyone’s life she touched. She guessed she really was death. But in those final moments her, Cassian, and Elain had. She had remembered. 

Remembered collapsing to her knees beside Elain and Cassian, Cassian still bleeding out, his life slowly fading as she felt it. Elain’s cries of despair as she rushed to her father’s body begging him to wake up, begging her to come back to her. Torn between what person to go to first. Torn between the two people she loved the most. As Cassian’s gasp had answered her question and Elain’s look of ‘Don’t you dare touch me.’ She couldn’t blame her, not when she had felt that rage so many times before. 

She had put Cassian’s head back in her lap. The bond that had shown itself during the battle singing to her. Calling to her. Keeping her there. Cassian. Cassian. Cassian. A voice whispered. 

“Glad you’re alive.” She smiled her tears finally falling. 

“Were you hoping otherwise.” 

Laughing through her tears, Cassian smiled. He always had the most beautiful smile. As a grimace of pain spread across him, his blood flowing more quickly than she had anticipated snapping her out of it and causing her to press her hands firmly to his chest. How had she not noticed that wound. She had been assisting them for a while. 

“Cassian- “she whispered, but he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Training. She had to remember her training. 

“I-I-“But before he could say anything Nesta felt this excruciating pain in her chest, feeling as if something were breaking. Not just one thing, but possibly three. Not just their bond, but the cauldron’s as well. But if their bond was breaking that meant-

“No!” she cried out. “No, No, No, No. Cassian! Cassian! Cassian! Ah!” she cried out it was too much. The pain of both bonds trying to break it was too- A hand clasped hers. Elain? 

“He’s not gone. Not completely.” She whispered; voice gentle as if talking to a small child. 

“What do you-“she gritted her teeth together as another blow of pain struck her. 

“Tune it out. I know you can. Concentrate on him. Only him. The thread of your bond can still be mended. Do for him what he had done for you. Bring him back.” 

“What are you- and that’s when she remembered. The voice in the cauldron, the one guiding her way. Begging her not to leave him. He had- he had brought her back. She had died, died in that cauldron and with the bond, he- he brought her back. But how? What had he dome to do so? 

“Listen to the bond. It will tell you what to do. All you have to do is listen.” 

Taking a few deep calming breaths, Nesta had listened. Had drowned out the noise, her hands pressed firmly on his now still heart. Dead. Cassian was dead. But the bond remained. There wasn’t much of it. Just a little bit. A sliver, but it was still enough. She had to bring him back. For what world could she live in where he did not exist? 

She concentrated hard on their memories the good ones. Their touches, Their kisses. Their jokes. His laugh. His smile. His joy. Life. He was life itself. And she refused to let something she controlled claim him. 

“Come back to me.” She whispered unsure of if it would work. 

Feeling everything all at once, using every drop of her power that she possessed as the cauldron breaking their bond still tugged at her, but this wasn’t time for that. That’s when she felt it. Her magic. Their bond. It was alive. It was working. And his heart which had been stopped beating once before. It-It was beating steady. He- He was alive. 

Grasping back her hands, Nesta looked over to her father. Could she- Could she do the same for him? 

“No.” Elain whispered grasping her hand stilling her. “Father is too far gone, It- It had to have been in the moments of his death and-and I think it cost more than that.”

“What do you mean Elain? How do you know-?”

“A life for a life. My-My visons whispered that to me. Too late. I was too late, but at least we saved one life today.” She stated as Nesta cried out in pain, Elain keeping her steady. 

“What’s happening? -“

Her pain that was prominent before. Her emotions that were heightened only moments ago. They were now numb. Gone. And the bond- 

She looked down at Cassian at the rise and fall of his chest. The bond. Where was the-?

“The bond still remains. But all magic comes at a price.” 

“Why? Why can’t I feel- “

“The bond is void- numbed. It’s still there. It can not be broken just like Amren said, but you and him may not feel it for a while. Give it time. It needs time to heal to- to repair it- “

“Elain, Nesta=” A voice stated making them jump slightly as they turned to see Azriel and Mor mouths agape. How much had they witnessed? Had they seen her-?

“He needs immediate medical attention.” She replied. Her words forming once more. But as she stared at Cassian, she noticed that his injuries, severe only moments before were now quickly healing. Had she done that- Or had he- 

A hand squeezed hers. Azriel’s. 

“We need to move him.” He spoke gently, Nesta hadn’t realized how tightly she had been holding onto Cassian. How much she didn’t -couldn’t let him go. But the look on Elain’s face assured her that Cassian was in good hands. She had done everything that she could do. 

Letting go of him, Azriel hoisted Cassian up, his eyes now fluttering awake as he groaned and looked at Nesta with those beautiful haunting Hazel brown eyes of his. 

“What-“ he started asking but Azriel silenced him. 

“You sure as shit know exactly how to scare the hell out of us brother. Be lucky that you’re alive. We need to get you to the healer immediately. There’s no time to spare.” He chased giving Nesta and Elain a look of sympathy telling him they would talk later as he escorted a now limping Cassian away. 

Mor looked at her. Really looked at her. Shocked into silence for what Nesta could only assume was the first time in her life as Elain gave her a look 

“Go. I can take care of her. Go make sure everyone else is okay.” Elain instructed as Mor nodded taking the knowledge and truth of what she had seen with her. 

“Elain, Are you-?” Nesta started. 

“I’m fine. We-We need to figure out what to do with father’s-“

“We need Feyre.” Nesta answered for her as Elain nodded. This wasn’t a decision they should make without her. 

Tears pricked ion Nesta’s eyes, she scrubbed the blood off her skin harder and harder, making the flesh pink. Causing it to become raw as new blood became fresh. 

“Nesta-“A voice called from the flap of her tent. Elain frozen there. Silent as the others had been. A bottle of liquor in her hands. She hated it. Hated anyone seeing her so vulnerable. “Nesta, Are-Are you al- “

“Get. Out.” She seethed. Not knowing where the sudden anger had come from. The embarrassment of her little sister seeing her like this. 

“Nesta- “

“I said get out!” she jumped to her feet the bucket of water turning over as the blood and water soaked the tent. Nesta could swear that her power was burning within her as Elain sat down the bottle taking two steps before exiting the tent as Nesta slumped down placing her head between her hands. The pain. The anger. The cold and the numbness. It was too much. It was all too much. 

A memory, one long ago pulled at her. Her eyes focusing on the liquor bottle remembering that day in the library what she had seen- how they all had coped after that. She picked up the bottle, uncorking the top, not caring how messy it looked as she brought it to her lips and drank. Drank until she could feel the dizziness in her head. Drank until the numbness spread across her body. Drank until she could feel no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be doing more from after the war. I hope you guys enjoyed this one!!!


End file.
